The Turncoat
by CreepyCoincidence
Summary: She never thought she'd see him all over again. TomXOC
1. Chapter 1

She walked along the corridor quietly, head bowed and arms clasped behind her. A student, _Slytherin_, of course, jostled past her with a great push that sent her reeling back a few steps.

"_Mudblood_!" He hissed as he swept past; his eyes flinty and suspicious. She didn't respond, but instead, gathered her robe around her a little more tightly, grasped the wand kept out of sight in her pocket and walked ahead calmly, giving no sign that she had heard him.

He grabbed her arm tightly at that as she walked past. "Where do you think you're going?"

"P-Professor Snape called me, sir."

The boy, with blonde hair and black eyes scowled at her as he pushed once more. "Filthy scum!"

Once again, Aria didn't respond. Her eyes were downcast.

She peeked under her lashes at him as he swept past, and a scowl wormed its way to her face. "Arse," she murmured under her breath as she moved ahead to her destination. To an onlooker, Aria would've seemed quite frightened and meek, but of course it was all an act. If anyone cared to look at her more closely, they would've seen that her eyes were hard, and she took in her surroundings with attention borne of practise. And circumstances.

Aria picked up her skirt and walked a little more slowly as she came to the stairs. She looked up, noticing the empty corridor, gave it a suspicious glance before she swept away to the left. Her robes flapped around her as she walked, and her head was downcast once more.

"Over here, Miss Fitz!" McGonagall grabbed her arm as she walked past the Room of Requirement, and a door materialized instantaneously. Once again, Aria looked about her before sweeping in.

Professor McGonagall glared at her from the rimmed glasses. "What took you so long?"

Aria gave her an apologetic glance. "_Slytherins_."

"_Aah_"

"Aria!" Seamus rushed forward, grabbing her arm. "There are fingerprints on your arm."

"Just another ponce," she murmured. "Is it ready?"

"Yeah," Ginny breathed from her usual corner bed. She played with a glinting object in her hand.

"Miss Weasley! Put that down this instant!" McGonagall shouted, in her full teacher-mode. Ginny glanced up at her, before shrugging and throwing the shiny object on the bed.

"I still don't trust the plan." Ginny said quietly, her hands crossed as she stared at the group with a glare worthy of Molly Weasley.

"It's the best we have, Gin." Neville murmured quietly from his spot, leaning against the wall. There was blood on his face and his eyes were grim. "We're losing the war. We haven't heard from Harry, Hermione or Ron for ages. They even might be…" Neville trailed off, resolutely not meeting the youngest Weasley's eyes.

"Shut up, Longbottom!" Ginny shouted back. "Harry isn't dead yet! Nor are the others. They have a mission and they'll complete it. If they were, the ruddy Carrows would have informed us."

"Ginny, I'm not- I'm just being realistic. We _need_ to do this. V-Voldemort needs to be stopped!"

All of them flinched at the name.

Aria sighed. " Ginny, I need you to trust me. I will complete the mission."

"The risk is too great! What if- What if another Dark Lord rises?"

"We researched everything before making the plan Weasley!" Seamus exploded from next to Aria. "There's no one else to take up the mantle of the Dark Lord if he is no more!"

"What about Aria? Her world will collapse!" Ginny shrieked back. "How selfish—"

"I volunteered for this! The alternative is too bleak and you know it, Gin." Aria yelled.

"What about the anomaly?"

"The anomaly is the risk I'm willing to take" Aria crossed her arms too, glaring at the red-head.

"Children!" McGonagall finally intervened. "We have a foolproof plan and I request you, Miss Ginevra, to keep quiet! There is no time for second guessing. We have a volunteer. We have the facts. We even managed to procure a time-turner from under Snape's nose!"

"Snape's greasy nose" Seamus muttered.

McGonagall glared at him.

"Let's just do it" Aria said, with a calm she didn't feel. "The book said that if I go back and kill the Dark Lord, Father Time would introduce an anomaly that affects _only_ me. I'm willing to take that risk."

"That's because you don't _know_ the risks!" Ginny screamed. "Why don't you understand Aria? We could have another Dark Lord. Father Time could erase any one of our existences. And the worst part is that you'll be the _only_ one with memories of this timeline. Friendships made could be ruined forever. We could never be friends. _You_ will have no existence. None!"

"I don't care! I don't bloody care! Merlin, Ginny. I'm tired of living like this! I'm tired of waking up and seeing people around us be tortured. If we have a chance to end this at the bud, I will take that chance. No matter the risks."

"Fine! Throw away your life!"

Aria walked forward and grabbed the time-turner from the bed. "Any last questions?" she spat.

"Aria. Remember what I said? You need to feel it, breathe it. You need to _want_ to kill the Dark Lord when you cast the curse" Rosaline, a seventh year Hufflepuff, said pensively from the bed where she was perched.

"I know."

McGonagall sighed. "I hope this works." Her eyes were forbidding. "For all of our sakes."

Aria took off the Gryffindor tie and put the time turner around her neck.

"Fitz." Seamus said loudly, his right hand over his heart in a sign of respect. "You are a true Gryffindor."

"T-Thank you." Aria cleared her throat.

And then turned the time turner back fifteen times.

* * *

The world rushed past her as she stood in the same place. Aria could feel the unshed tears being forced from her eyes as she stood in the same place, on the same hard stone as time moved back. In front of her were scenes she had never witnessed, could never comprehend as they swept past, making her dizzy. Her hands grabbed her forehead and she shut her eyes, to keep back the nausea. Finally, after what seemed like an age, everything stopped. She was still in the Room of Requirement, the same faux dormitory they had asked for to escape the Death Eaters who taught the castle.

Hesitantly, fighting back the urge to vomit, she took a step forward. When nothing moved, Aria sighed and fell to the floor, her arse reaching first. She rubbed her eyes in order to push back the headache, only, nothing worked.

Aria didn't know how long she sat there, gathering courage. She felt, sad, broken, and helpless. Tears rushed down as she sighed. _The plan, the plan, the plan_. The plan concocted after they were tired of being vulnerable, tired of living in the Dark Lord's rule. Tired, just so bloody tired.

Nobody wanted to live with the scars granted to them by the Carrow's and often, Snape as they pushed them to perform Unforgivables. Aria was the only member of Dumbledore's Army, who had. But not on a student. On the female Carrow herself. That was why she had volunteered.

_Avada Kedavra_ couldn't be worse than a _Crucio_, could it?

She got up, fighting to keep her feet steady and grabbed the Invisible Cloak from the bag. Not the original Cloak, of course, but a fine copy. Perfect for a few hours rendezvous. Keeping the wand tightly in her hand, she opened the door of the Room, and stepped out.

The corridor was, thankfully empty. She threw the Cloak around her and crept forward, noting a few changes in the yesteryear Hogwarts. There, in that corner, was supposed to be a tapestry, but it was empty in the 1940's. There, in the corridor, was supposed to be a suit of armour, but it was empty once more.

Aria looked back as she heard a noise. Loud noises, in fact. Noises of people talking. She followed them into the Great Hall.

_Oh_.

She stood at the Entrance, looking up at the teachers table. An exceptionally short old man, who she presumed was Dippet sat at the Headmaster's chair. Next to him was Professor Dumbledore himself, looking younger than ever. A variety of teachers—there was Slughorn, his head not quite as bald. It seemed to be supper time.

Aria looked down once more. _Focus_.

She stepped aside to avoid a group of giggling Ravenclaws and moved, hesitantly to the Slytherin table. She spotted him immediately.

Tom Riddle, aka, Voldemort sat at the centre, a group of boisterous young men around him. Riddle seemed to be no bigger than a second year, and yet, the smarmy grim on his face made Aria want to kill him. _Kill, Kill, Kill_.

He was good-looking, undeniable, but yet, the surge of hatred flew through Aria, making her see red. It would be so easy to just—just a wave of her wand. And she _was_ breathing it, feeling it. Across the Hall, she noted Dumbledore's twinkling eyes on the young Dark Lord quite often, and she scowled. She needed to catch him alone.

So she waited. She waited, sitting in one extreme corner, completely invisible as the people around her ate and made merry. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Riddle got up.

"I have to go to the library. Mulciber, Avery, meet me in the Common Room at eight."

So young, and yet so commanding. Aria narrowed her eyes as she followed him out of the Hall, her eyes fixed on his retreating back.

And finally, finally when they reached the empty second floor corridor, she threw off her cloak, raised her wand and- _Avada_ _Kedavra_.

A jet of green light flew through her wand, and ahead of her, young Dark Lord turned around, met her eyes, before the green light hit him square on the chest and he fell backwards.

Aria, with shaking hands, grabbed the time turner, and turned it once more.

* * *

The world twisted around her again. Once it stopped, she vomited on the hard floor, closed her eyes and sat down, crying.

For an age, she cried, too scared to meet the new world. Too scared to see what the consequences were. She wept- she wept for the use of an Unforgivable, she wept for broken friendships, she wept for _Time_.

"What are you doing here? It's past curfew!" A silky voice invaded her conscious, making her look up. She looked up, and she screamed. She screamed loudly, her hands crossed across herself as she took in the young man before her.

The Head Boy's badge, the dark hair the seemed almost blue, the greyeyes, and the long wand pointed at her.

The young Riddle had grown up into a very handsome specimen, and he stood right before her.

So she screamed.

* * *

**A/N: I'm writing a new one, yes. Because my muse wanted to. Honestly, the going back in time and befriending young Voldy has been done sooooo many times, so I thought I'd write a new one where the people of D.A actually use logic and go back and kill him. That's what always worries me. They should be killing him! Or sending him to Azkaban. So I decided to do it myself. With a twist. *winks* **

**Also, I own nothing. Nothing. Nada. And I'm not going to keep repeating this. :)**

**It's not canon, and everything will be changed.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Listen, girl –"

Aria still screamed loudly, scrambling backwards to avoid him as he came closer. "Go away!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

"This can't be happening to me!" Aria shouted loudly, pointing a very condemning finger at the person before her. "Not even Time could be that cruel!"

"Okay, look Miss—"

"I need Dumbledore! I _need_ Dumbledore right _now_!"

"… The Minister of Magic?"

Aria's jaw dropped. "He's the- He's the Minister of Magic now?"

"He has been, for the past ten years" Boy with jet black hair and Head Boy badge replied dryly.

"Take me to the Headmaster."

Riddle, if he even was Riddle, narrowed his eyes in a decidedly angry manner. "What is your name?"

"Truly? He's Minister of Magic?" Aria quipped in a bid to ignore his question. No avail, of course, since he narrowed his eyes even further, making them almost slits.

They didn't turn red though. _Interesting_.

"Name please. And House along with your year."

"Do you want my phone number too, along with it?"

Riddle snarled angrily at that, evidently not used to sarcastic witches who didn't provide their credentials on the first moment. Aria crossed her arms. "I'm providing no information until I don't meet the Headmaster." She stared right back at him as he glared at her.

Finally, after a decidedly long moment, Riddle let out a long-suffering sigh. "Well, if you insist. Come on. Up. Follow me. And no funny tricks."

Aria clambered to her feet, throwing her emotions back for the moment. They weren't any good here. For now, she needed to keep calm and focus; and also ensure that none of them learnt her secret. And then, then, hopefully, she needed to expose Riddle for the monster he was—_is_ and take care that all that hard work was for nothing. She would _not_ let another Dark Lord come and terrorize this world, whatever it was. Which reminded her, she needed to look at a detailed history of the current timeline.

She lagged behind Riddle's strong strides on purpose and he didn't comment on it. Not that he even seemed interested in her. He looked as if he was somewhere else altogether mentally, not even bothering to glance at her.

They finally reached the gargoyle she remembered. "_Animagi_," Riddle said loudly, and the stone contraption began turning round to show the staircase.

"After you." He muttered, throwing forward a hand in a decidedly graceful movement.

Aria scowled and pushed past, ensuring that none of her touched any part of _him_. He let out another sigh behind her as he followed around the spiralling staircase. When they reached the mahogany door, Aria made to push across but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

He ignored that, and knocked loudly. The sound reverberated for a long moment, before there came a decidedly cool, feminine voice. "Come in."

Now very curious, Aria walked in after Riddle, peeking across his shoulder to see none other than Minerva McGonagall herself, perched on the Headmaster's chair very calmly. She looked no different from her previous counterpart; her hair was still in that harsh bun, and on her nose were the spectacles through which she glared at them both.

"Yes, Tom?"

"I found her on the third floor corridor, Professor. She doesn't look like—"Here, he gave Aria a disgusted look –"like any student I've come across before. She also refused to tell me her name or her House."

Now, McGonagall finally looked at her with a suspicious look. "I don't believe I've seen her before too. Who are you, my dear?"

Aria cleared her throat. "Um, Professor. I'm a-uh- new student. I came here via- extreme circumstances."

"Extreme circumstances?"

Aria nodded vigorously. "_Very_ extreme circumstances."

Minerva McGonagall did not look impressed. She gave her a distrustful look, before turning back to Riddle. "You may go back to class, Mr. Riddle. I'll deal with this."

Tom Riddle nodded, ever the epitome of a perfect student. His grey eyes peered at Aria curiously before turning back on his heel and stepping out. The door closed behind him soundlessly.

"Now, I would like to hear the _full_ story."

Aria wrangled her hands in an agitated fashion. "Look, Professor, I'm not being blasé on purpose, I swear. These are… were extreme circumstances, and I'm not sure how much I can disclose given the, uhh-"

"Extremity of the situation?" Came the arid reply.

She sighed at that, giving an imploring look to her erstwhile confidante and well-wisher. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Minerva McGonagall was no Albus Dumbledore. Minerva McGonagall depended on facts, and perfect answers, and she, in no condition, ever favoured a vague reply and let the situation be. Minerva McGonagall needed answers, and she most certainly needed them from the young wind-swept girl in front of her who looked as if she had been crying. Her black hair was a mess, and her robes looked as if they had been slept in. Her face sported various cuts, which Minerva also noted were on her arms too. She looked as if she had come from a war.

If only Minerva knew how right she was.

"Professor, I… It's a genuine reason. I'm not—I don't know how much I can reveal… Can you just take me to the Minister?" Aria blurted out desperately. Though as soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Minister? Honestly. She could've done with a better roundabout excuse that would've forced McGonagall to take her to the Ministry while making it seem as if it was her idea after all.

Predictably, McGonagall looked outraged. "Look Miss—"

"Fitz." Aria provided.

"Never, in all my years… Such blatant disregard for authority!" McGonagall looked as if she had been shocked into speechlessness. "In all my years at Hogwarts! Who are you to want to meet the Minister of Magic, girl?"

"I…" Aria finally sighed, spreading her hands in a gesture of peace. "Professor, I'm a Time Traveller. And I believe the only one authorized to handle my circumstances is Professor Dumble—Minister Dumbledore!" She corrected hastily.

Minerva looked scandalized. And if possible, a little faint with disbelief. "Who authorized your visit… In time?"

"_You_ did, Professor."

Silence. The whole office was silent. Minutes stretched by as McGonagall looked between shocked, to outraged, to finally resigned. "I shall assign a portkey."

Aria watched as she did the same, charming a piece of cutlery which glowed blue before settling down. McGonagall then looked at her with wary eyes. "I am writing a letter explaining the situation to Minister Dumbledore, Miss Fitz. I hope I do not need to express upon you the need of being as discreet as possible to anyone else apart from the Minister. Time travel, although unheard and unrecorded of, has happened before. Witches and wizards millennia ago did once change the timeline. The results were… regrettably harsh. If, as you say, I was the one to authorize the deed, then I believe the circumstances were dire enough to warrant the act. However, I, like others, pray that the anomaly does not pose more of a risk."

Tears rushed into her eyes in an unexpected manner, and Aria tried in vain to blink them back even as her voice cracked. "Your counterpart, Professor… said the same thing. The previous conditions were too dire. Change had to be wrought on the world."

McGonagall nodded. "The portkey leaves in one minute."

Aria clutched it. The office shifted, and the dizzying sensation of travelling made her close her eyes once more. When she did open them, she realized she was in the waiting room of the Minister's office. There was inevitable pandemonium upon her entry. A young man guarding the doors jumped, before drawing out his wand, and other's in the room began whispering loudly.

"What is the meaning of this?" The bespectacled man thundered, his wand still aloft threateningly.

"I come from Hogwarts." Aria produced the letter marked with the seal of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man tried to snatch it from her hands, but she was quicker in withdrawing it. "This, is for the eyes of the Minister only."

He scowled. He looked familiar in a way Aria couldn't exactly determine. "Do you know who I am? I am Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic!" he spat. "All that is good for the eyes of the Minister is good for me too!"

"I'm sorry. But I really cannot. Headmistress McGonagall gave specific instructions…"

The Undersecretary opened his mouth to retort something undoubtedly unsavoury, when another middle aged, messy haired man started laughing in the corner. "She got you there, mate. Let her go. Dumbledore wouldn't mind, barmy old codger that he is. He'll probably welcome the distraction. You know how Prewitt is boring him in there with talks of renewing the Triwizard.." Affection for Dumbledore coloured his words.

"You shut up, James. Unlike you, I happen to take my job seriously!"

"You think I don't take my post as an Auror seriously?"

"Moody would beg to differ!"

"Moody. Don't make me laugh. That man has a stick up his arse all the time. He takes _everything_ too seriously!"

Before it could erupt into something ugly, Aria coughed, making the two men swivel to look at her. "I'm sorry. But this is really, very urgent."

"What's your name?" The one not called James barked, his wand still pointing at her face.

"Aria Fitz."

"Never heard of the name Fitz."

"Diggory! You need to work on your manners!" James interrupted loudly, on noticing Aria's rapidly reddening face. "Look, Aria, how about you give me the letter, yeah? I'll take it to Dumbledore without reading it. Don't mind Amos. He's just being a prat."

"I'm not—"

"Anyway. Which House did you say you were in, Aria? I have a son in his seventh year. Harry. Harry Potter. You mates with him? You look to be his age." James smiled kindly at her, his hazel eye shining behind his spectacles. He looked undoubtedly proud of his son.

Aria's jaw dropped. "You're—You're Harry Potter's dad?"

James looked pleased at her response. "Is Harry that popular?" he asked with an amused grin.

_Where I'm coming from, you have no idea. _"Ye-Yes, Mr. Potter." She managed a smile in his direction, handing him the letter.

He winked at her, before opening the door to the Minister's office and walking in, completely ignoring Amos Diggory's sputters. When he had gone, Diggory turned to look at her with an aggravated expression. "No funny business, Miss Fitz. Please take a seat."

Aria rolled her eyes as she turned around to sit next to a red haired witch who seemed to be busily shuffling sheets of paper as she organized them haphazardly. She dropped one, which Aria picked up for her. The witch gave her a per functionary smile, before turning back to her work. At that instant, the door to Dumbledore's office banged open with a loud sound, making them all jump. The red haired woman next to her dropped _all_ her papers in shock.

Dumbledore himself stood in the doorway, looking the same as he did in the previous timeline. He wore wacky purple robes, and his long beard still extended past his waist. He still had half moon spectacles. Everyone in the room got up at once, with cried of 'good morning, minister'.

He didn't bother replying as his eyes settled on her. "Miss Fitz?"

"Yes, Prof- Minister."

"After me, please." With a swish of his robes, he walked back into the office. As Aria followed him, James Potter came out, giving her yet another wink before strutting away. He was followed by a harrowed looking man clutching large parchments. Aria assumed he was Prewitt.

"Minister! Should I- Should I be there too?" Amos Diggory called out from outside. "You might need to take notes and I-"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Diggory." Dumbledore cut him off. "This is a… _Private_ matter." With that, he shut the door and Aria was alone with him in the office.

"Take a seat, please. Would you care for a lemon drop?" Aria sat slowly, shaking her head in response. Dumbledore's office was _huge_. It seemed to be as big as the Gryffindor Common Room, and it was completely cluttered. Delicate objects stood in every corner of the room. Next to his desk, sat Fawkes, Dumbledore's legendary Phoenix. Aria sighed ruefully at that. It seemed as if some things never changed.

"Now, Miss Fitz. I would like to hear the whole story. Just avoid taking names."

Aria stared at him. "What do you mean by that, sir?"

"I need to know why you thought of it necessary to travel back in time, my dear girl. Just without the whole details."

Aria swallowed. "Um, Prof—Minister!" she corrected hastily.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I believe I was a teacher in that timeline, then?"

Aria flushed at that. "Yes, Minister. Headmaster actually. The best Headmaster of Hogwarts." Unknown to her, she smiled in fond memory.

"Ah, my dream profession actually. You see, Miss Fitz, after the defeat of Grindelwald, I was pestered by owls from so many people that I just couldn't refuse. What I actually wanted to do was to settle down as a teacher with a fat salary."

She smiled at him, albeit sadly. "There was another Dark wizard, Minister. After Grindelwald. He was, worse, I believe, since he targeted England, in a bid to cleanse the society of Muggleborns and Muggles. He believed in wizard supremacy. There was a prophecy about him. Concerning a child who would once be his downfall. As expected, once he came to know about that, he set out to destroy the child. Only the child survived the Killing Curse, while both his parents died. I am unsure as to why. With that, the Dark Lord disappeared too. For ages, we believed he was dead."

"But he came back?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Oh, yes. He came back. It was worse this time round, because, prof-Minister, the only person he was ever afraid of was _you_, and you _died_. Hogwarts was then overrun too." Aria could feel the tears coming back. "Dark times, sir. All Muggleborns went into hiding, the Ministry was overrun, and the school overtaken by his minions. The young boy and two of his friends who survived the curse were on a mission set by you, but there were rumours they were dead. And that was when Professor McGonagall came up with this idea as the last resort. There was _nothing_ else we could do."

"Are you a Muggleborn, Miss Fitz?"

"N-No. My mother is a witch. Both my parents died in a car crash when I was five. Since then, I had been living in an orphanage. You were the one—the one that came to inform me that I was a witch."

Thankfully, Dumbledore did not comment as Aria quietly wiped her tears.

"You have been through a lot, Miss Fitz. I believe that now, you should try and relax. The after-effects of this action could be missed."

"But I have already seen the after-effect, minister!" Aria exploded."The Dark Wizard, he exists in this timeline too! Only, he is a school bound student now, but undoubtedly, he will—"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "That is not necessary. Time would never play such a hand."

Aria deflated. "You-You don't know him like I do. That man was… _is_ evil."

"Miss Fitz, I want whatever details you have concerning the man. All apart from his name, of course. What were the situations that led him to take that path…?"

"Sir, from what Professor McGonagall told me, the Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin himself. His mother was rumoured to be a squib, who was taken in with a handsome villager. She—She fed him love potion. Once she became pregnant, for some unknown reason, it is believed she stopped feeding him the potion, and he abandoned her. Distraught, she landed at an orphanage where upon giving birth, she died."

"I believe the young son of hers took offense at that?" Dumbledore asked.

"That is what Professor McGonagall believed, yes."

Dumbledore's fingers joined together in front of him to form a steeple. It seemed he had come to the crux of the matter. "Have you considered, Miss Fitz, that the wizard now has a functioning family in this timeline?"

For the second time in that day, Aria's jaw dropped. Dumbledore continued. "Or maybe he has, for some reason, decided to accept Muggleborns. He could also have found some other calling. Any change in time opens a realm of possibilities, Miss Fitz. I do believe that Minerva had prepared you for this sort of situation, but a mind cannot grasp the immensities until it is before it. I want you to keep your mind open and approach this with an unbiased attitude. Can you do that, for me? It is imperative that there be no prejudice."

Aria, with effort, shut her mouth. Her mind whirled with Dumbledore's words. Sure, McGonagall _had_ said that changes would be drastic… She had even quoted examples from when it had happened before. But Aria truly believed that nothing would help change someone like the Dark Lord.

"Sir," she began carefully, "I'm sure you're familiar with the theory of the _Anomaly_." Without waiting for an answer, she ploughed on. "I believe that his _existence_ is the anomaly itself. It is Time's way of showing that human nature and magic cannot change the fundamental course of nature!"

Dumbledore seemed to sigh without betraying such an action itself. "Miss Fitz, I am only requesting you to keep an open mind. As a student, your influence is low. But I believe that every human shapes his way into the world. If you decide to boycott the boy, it would arouse suspicion in Minerva's mind. For all her faults, Minerva is a smart woman. I do not want you to alienate this man because of what happened in a timeline that doesn't even exist anymore. Because if Time has decided to opt for that path once more, we _cannot_ change it. However, you must also believe that Time is an unbiased master. Undoubtedly, he will do what is right."

Aria gritted her teeth. "You want me—to protect him?"

"No. I want you to allow Time to take its natural path."

"By acting as if his presence does not affect me?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes."

Silence descended over the office for a few moments. Then—"I'm sorry, Minister. I cannot promise that. I can honestly say that—that whenever I see him, I cannot stop the surge of hatred, or even stop myself from shooting glares at him. I will however, ensure that no one comes to know of these happenings."

Dumbledore seemed resigned, but he nodded nevertheless. "That is all I ask. Thank you."

"Okay. Now what?"

The Minister chuckled slightly at that. "Now, Miss Fitz? Now you complete the education abandoned." He stared at her for a few moments, as if sizing her up, before saying, "Can you please perform a spell?"

"A spell?"

"Any one you feel like performing. Indulge an old man." He smiled.

Aria got up and drew her wand. "…Okay." She pointed at her throat. "_Sonorus_."

Nothing happened. Aria frowned, while Dumbledore seemed to lean forward in anticipation. "Try an easier one," he prompted.

She pointed at Dumbledore himself. "_Aguamenti_."

Again, nothing. Panicking now, she tried again. "_Wingardium_ _Leviosa_."

When the quill on Dumbledore's desk did not rise, she dropped her wand in shock. "P-Professor. I mean, Minister. I—I've lost my magic?!"

All of Dumbledore's previous optimism seemed to crumble away. "Merlin's beard, I did not expect that He would punish you so strongly!" he said gravely.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means, Miss Fitz, that your magic has been taken from you until a time that the Overlord of Time feels that you are worthy of it."

"Worthy of it?" she repeated blankly.

"You haven't lost your magical skills, of course. But they lie dormant—It isn't an arena which has been researched thoroughly. I cannot exactly say what the trigger is. But if it's any consolation, I believe that the Department of Mysteries holds a Time Chamber."

"A Time Chamber?"

"A place which can propel you to Father Time. Of course, it's never been tested. But it was created by Ravenclaw herself, to help any Time Travellers who might need an audience with the man who decides their… _punishment_, for lack of a better word."

Aria felt faint. Losing her magic was equivalent to losing a limb, or two. "I don't—I don't think I—"

"Sit down, Miss Fitz. Rest assured, I will look into the matter. I have a friend who has been researching the Time Traveller theory… I believe, together, we can find an answer to your predicament."

Aria sat with the look of one in a daze. "I've lost my magic. What will I do by studying? I don't even belong in the magical community anymore!"

"Miss Fitz! I need you to calm yourself! There are a number of subjects that do not require instant magic. Ancient Runes, or Arithmancy, for example."

"Yes, but—"

"No. Your lack of magic shall be hidden by a probation bracelet. In fact, I have an idea. You are the daughter of two Muggle parents who did not send you to Hogwarts. Instead, you practised at home secretly. Today morning, two wizards of unknown origin attacked your parents, and in a bid of self defense, you attacked them. When they killed your parents, you performed accidental magic and managed to reach Hogwarts. In the Ministry, we punished you with a probationary bracelet that stops you from using magic for an indefinite time. In that way, your identity will remain safe, as will the fact that your magic is gone."

"That's not—My magic is gone, Minister! The only thing that I could depend upon. How could—How could he even…?" She trailed off, as sudden tears entered her eyes.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and James Potter peered in with a crooked grin on his face. "Albus? Are you done? I need help concerning this recent case that—"

"Come in, James."

James Potter smiled, and walked in with a beam. He stopped on seeing Aria's face though."What happened, Aria?"

"James, I need you to promise me that whatever I tell you will remain amongst us only.

* * *

"Bloody Hell, Aria. You must be feeling awful!" James Potter exclaimed as they walked through the half empty Diagon Alley. Dumbledore had explained to him that Aria was a Time Traveller, who had altered the course of Time so much that she had lost her magic. He didn't provide any extra details, only telling James that Aria needed a forged criminal record and a temporary probationary bracelet. James had been sworn to secrecy, and they had been dispatched to Diagon Alley to help Aria buy things for her sixth year at Hogwarts.

Aria had opted to take History of Magic, Potions, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, Herbology and Astronomy as her subjects, because none of them had the necessity of performing magic. Her only possessions in the world were the black cloak she had been wearing, her skirt and shirt underneath that, and her wand. Which wasn't even much use now, she thought, stifling a sob.

"Look, its okay. Dumbledore's the best there is. I'm sure he'll find a solution."

When Aria didn't reply, he didn't press any further, instead, he steered her towards Flourish and Blotts. "I'm going to go buy your books, yeah? Wait here."

Aria didn't bother replying to that either. The shock had finally settled in, leaving her uneasy and scared. Attending Hogwarts without magic, and an absent Dumbledore with a future Dark Lord lying in wait seemed like a very harsh verdict. She supposed she could be happy if she was put in any House apart from Slytherin. Hufflepuff's loyalty would ensure that they help her in any way they could; Gryffindor would stand by her bravely; Ravenclaw would value her intelligence and not care about her lack of magic, but Slytherin. Slytherin would tear her apart.

James Potter returned a few moments later, his arms carrying a bag full of books. When Aria made to take it away from him, he laughed and pulled away. "It's nothing, Aria. Come on, we need to get you robes."

"Mr. Potter, who is paying for these?"

James glanced at the serious looking girl next to him, and sighed. He stopped and pulled her aside a bit to bend down to her eye level and look at her earnestly. "Look, Aria, I am. Think of me as your godfather, okay? I can't leave a pretty young girl like you to feed off the school funds, lacking as they are. And it's not even a question of money. Trust me, I have enough. It's a matter of pride. _Let_ me help you. From the way you looked at me when you learnt my name, I gather that it was my Harry that you helped by killing that madman. I am in your debt. Allow me to repay it any way I can. Please."

Aria stared at him for a moment, before realizing that his Gryffindor honour backed his request. She sighed. "If you must, Mr. Potter."

He gave her another wry grin before shaking his head. "You can call me James. Come on, repeat after me. J-A-M-E-S."

She had to laugh at that. Feeling light, she did. "James." She smiled, sensing the formation of a bond that would last through time.

* * *

"Lily would love to meet you," James gushed as they exited Diagon Alley after buying her thing. "In fact, do you mind if I-?"

"No, go ahead. Just, keep it a secret from Harry, please, James." It felt weird calling a grown man James, but she did it nevertheless. Calling him Mr. Potter all the time sounded too formal, and she knew that wizarding culture allowed for a lot less formalities.

James Potter glanced at her curiously, noting her slightly more relaxed demeanour and smiled to himself. According to him, no young person should have gone through what she had. Going back in time, killing a madman, coming back to find everything changed and then on top of it, she lost her magic. It was a sad, pathetic situation that galled James to no hand. He swore he would do his best to keep her smiling and carefree. "You don't mind if we write to you while you're at Hogwarts, do you?"

It appeared as if she hadn't expected that, for she looked up at him with surprise and warmth shining out of her black eyes. Then she smiled so much that it stretched across her whole face, making her look a lot more younger. "No, of course not… That is, if Harry won't mind," she ventured thoughtfully.

James frowned at that. "Harry's a grown-up, Aria. You needn't worry about him. In fact, he won't even care if we adopted you. Hey, maybe we should adopt you. What do you say to that idea?" he asked eagerly.

She chuckled. "I think, Mr. Potter, you should ask your wife that first."

He laughed too, thinking of the feisty red haired woman who waited for him at the Ministry.

"Is she an Auror too?"

"Yeah, we enrolled together. Along with Sirius and Remus."

Aria looked up at him with slightly troubled eyes. "What about Peter Pettigrew?"

Lost in memory, James did not take heed of her slightly pained look at Pettigrew's name. "Oh, Wormtail didn't want to be an Auror. He joined the Law Enforcement, in a lazy desk job. Typical Wormtail. He was always slothful."

Aria smiled at him. "You must've been really close friends, if you have that bond even now."

"We were, indeed. Marauders, they called us. Record of the maximum number of detentions. Although those Weasley twins just might be pushing that number. Those two are quite the handful. They're planning on opening a joke shop, here in Diagon Alley. In fact, I'm even thinking of funding them. Knowing those two, I can't even imagine how their business wouldn't be profitable."

"You mean they haven't opened a joke shop yet?"

"No, they graduated just last—Oh. You mean, in that timeline, they had?"

Aria clapped a hand to her mouth guiltily. "This is exactly what the Minister warned me about!" she exclaimed. "I'll need to keep my guard up all the time!"

"Relax, Aria." James said, as he ushered her past the patrons of Leaky Cauldron, stopping to smile at the barman. "It's not a test, and I'm sure you'll soon enough be used to this world. Do you want to apparate, or floo back to the Ministry?"

Aria wrinkled her nose. "I suppose apparition would be fine."

* * *

**A/N: Shout out to the Guest Reviewer, My FIRST review of this story. Thank you. And to DAUGHTER OF NEMESIS, my first story favorite.**

**Apart from that, thank you, all those who took the transition from Tempting Love to this. I couldn't honestly be more grateful, since i recognize it's really quite presumptous of me to ask you to do that. I dont have a beta, so all grammar mistakes are mine, and apologized for. I did read it again, but you never know. **

**I really urge you to review, since each one makes my day, and I'm ecstatic at each and every one, no matter the size. It also gives me the incentive to write. **


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva McGonagall attempted to smile at the witch in front of her; unfortunately, it came out more as a grimace. She had no idea what to do with a Time Traveller, and since Albus was being his usual unhelpful self, she felt completely out of her loop. The witch, in question, Aria Fitz, was perched on a stool in her office with the Sorting Hat on her head. Her face represented Minerva's thoughts with her scrunched up eyes and hands that clasped the stool tightly enough to make her knuckles white. Minerva knew that Aria thought of her as a long lost friend, but she herself, couldn't reciprocate to the fleeting smiles or warmth sent towards her. She never knew Aria; and Minerva anyway had problems being social. The previous timeline must've been quite drastic for her to lose her shell of professionalism.

She glanced at the letter in her hand, frowning at its obtuse words. Dumbledore, the Minister himself, requested her to allow Aria to attend school like a normal student without being able to perform magic and explicitly asked her to keep her questions to the witch to the minimum. Minerva knew the trauma itself must be enough for Aria; she was no fool. But she couldn't help but feel a little curious and apprehensive.

"_SLYTHERIN._" The Hat screamed, before silence settled in the office.

"This cannot be possible!" Aria yelled loudly. She got up and threw the Sorting Hat off her head on the floor. "Professor, this is absurd! I was a Gryffindor—the hat can't just—"

"Miss Fitz, control yourself! The Hat has spoken; I cannot change its decision."

"But Professor—they'll eat me alive. I don't even have any magic and I—"

"Nonsense. The Slytherin's are a bunch of well-mannered young people who are quite accepting and—"

"This isn't an inter-House competition you're promoting here, Professor! This is my life we're talking about. I have no magic, and I'm a Mudblood according to them, to boot!"

Minerva stared at the new Slytherin in shock. Never, in all her life, had a student spoken to her like this. Earlier, she could excuse it due to trauma and nerves, but this was just—"Detention, Miss Fitz. On Wednesday. Meet me here."

Aria stared at her in shock. "Professor, I—"

"I request you to move towards your Common Room. Since it's late, I shall call the Head Boy to escort you. You will find your belongings there." Minerva said formally; her tone dry and forbidding.

Aria still looked shocked, as if she couldn't quite decipher the fact that Minerva had given her a detention. Her mouth formed a small O of surprise, and her eyebrows jutted together in a sharp frown. Then, she seemed to exert control over herself, for that surprised face dropped to be exchanged with a blank face with no expression.

"Yes, Professor. I'll be there."

She slung her shapeless bag over her shoulder and stood waiting for Riddle; her eyes looking everywhere but at Minerva.

Minerva sighed. "Miss Fitz, I'm sorry, I'm not the woman you were familiar with. And I cannot be her either. For that, I request you to keep your familiarity to the minimum. I am exceedingly…_uncomfortable_ with this development."

Aria shot her a quick glance, her cool expression still in place. "I know you are not her, Professor. She was a great woman whose trials had managed to bring out a beautiful character."

Ignoring Minerva's shocked face, Aria stepped forward such that only the desk separated them and gave her a withering look. "Professor—your counterpart was just as uncomfortable with people, but she had learnt the value of not shutting herself out. The Minerva McGonagall I knew fought for the Good; she was the beacon of Light. And along with it, she also—forgive the expression—lost the stick up her arse."

Minerva stared at her for a moment before clearing her throat. "That may be, but that woman no longer exists. And I request you to reconcile with it."

Aria didn't reply, but shot her a scathing look that definitely made Minerva feel as if she was the one wrong, for some inane reason. She frowned.

The sharp knock on the door stopped their conversation. "Professor, may I come in?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Riddle."

Tom Riddle, Head Boy, Slytherin House stepped in with a frown on his face. Despite the fact that she was decades older than the boy, Minerva couldn't help but feel his lure. He was just so good-looking, with his piercing grey eyes, jet black hair, sharp cheekbones, a well-defined jaw and a tall body that he carried with utmost grace. Minerva knew that half the girls of Hogwarts pined after him secretly, while the other half pretended as if they didn't, but obviously did. She had yet to hear a bad word from anybody's mouth about him. It also helped that he was just so intelligent, smartest wizard of Hogwarts since Albus Dumbledore. All the teachers had great aspirations from him, as did half the student body.

She turned to tell Aria to go with him, but stopped at the sight of her face. Aria was looking at Tom with barely concealed hate. It was obvious she was trying, but nothing could mask her flashing eyes and curt mouth set in a straight line that rivalled even hers. Tom, himself, looked upon Aria with distaste and evident dislike. He had never shown such an attitude to any student before. In fact, Tom was one of the most well-mannered—unless something had happened when he caught the young witch after her time travel.

It was actually quite possible. Aria didn't seem like the one to censor her mouth before speaking, as was evident by her conversations. A Gryffindor in _this_ regard. She must have offended Tom somehow; but why would she be offended by him too?

She altered between looking at both of them for a moment, before interrupting, "Is there a problem?"

Aria looked away immediately, and Tom turned to her with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Professor, I thought she wasn't a student here."

Before Minerva could reply, Aria cut in with a sneer. "I am, now. Got an issue with that?"

Tom gave her the barest of glances before turning to look at Minerva with a raised eyebrow as if to say—someone like _her_ is a part of Hogwarts?

Minerva sighed. "Mr. Riddle, Aria's circumstances are her own and I cannot reveal them without her permission. All I can say right now is that she is a new student who has been shifted to Slytherin. I request you to take her to the Common Room. Miss Fitz, please go with Mr. Riddle."

Thankfully, Aria didn't put up a fight which Minerva definitely expected from the spitfire personality she had. She merely nodded at her, before stepping out of her office. Tom followed her, after giving Minerva another questioning glance and a half smile while he inclined his head in respect.

Only after they both had left did Minerva groan loudly, reclining on her chair and wondering at the fate of this world.

* * *

The silence between them was getting more unbearable by the second. It was one thing to walk alone lost in your own thoughts, and another all together to be lost in your own thoughts while walking with _someone_. Even if that someone was known to be a mass-murdering-madman in your previous world. Aria snuck another look at him from underneath her lashes, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Even she couldn't deny that Riddle exuded a certain _charm_, as repulsive as the idea was. His self assured air looked becoming on him, whereas on others it would undeniably look arrogant. His pale cheek was smooth, devoid of bristles and—

"If you're done staring at me, would you mind moving forward?" Riddle asked in a cool tone, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smirk. Aria gaped at him in horror. She hadn't even realized that she had stopped and that he was looking at her with a look of wronged suffering. Her cheeks heated up as she tried to scowl at him. Although the effect was probably marred by her red face.

"I wasn't staring, you prat. I was just wondering… at the awkward silence. "

Riddle raised one eyebrow in a fluid manner. "From where I'm from, it's known as staring."

"Shut up, you ponce." Aria snapped. "And start moving. I don't want to be near you anymore than necessary!" Resolutely, she clutched her bag tightly and stepped around him to move forward. Only, he stayed exactly where he was.

This time, Aria raised her eyebrows at him. "Is there a reason you're not moving?"

He sported an unreadable expression. "I think," He said calmly, "I haven't quite introduced myself to you properly." Completely disregarding Aria's agape mouth, he moved his hand forward. "I'm Tom Riddle, Head Boy."

Aria grasped his hand after a moment of hesitation; it was cool and smooth. Just like him, she thought venomously. She shook it, staring at him in the eye with a bold expression. "Aria Fitz, Muggleborn."

Contrary to her expectations, he did not snatch his hand away in disgust. Instead, he sort of inclined his head to one side and looked at her with an amused expression. "Is that how you're going to be introducing yourself to people here?"

"Only to the Slytherins."

"You won't be accepted here, then."

"I can't bring myself to care, honestly."

He stared at her for a few more moments, making Aria squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "You were wearing the Hogwarts uniform when you entered here." It wasn't a question at all.

Aria shifted her weight from on foot to another, thinking hard. Should she tell him her cover story or not? Then making up her mind, she shook her head. "It was just a set of plain black robes."

"If I might be so bold," he said cautiously, stepping forward so that they were way too close for comfort, "what is this back story McGonagall refused to tell me?"

Aria had to look upwards to meet his eye. "That," she said lightly, "is a story I'll be telling to _only_ someone who is a mate."

"Let us be mates, then."

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer. Friendship isn't something offered on a platter. Friendship is _earned_, Riddle."

"What will I have to do to earn your friendship, then?"

"Why do you want to be friends, anyway?"

Riddle was silent at that. Aria took the opportunity to step back a few steps in order to increase the distance between them. His proximity was disconcerting, as was the smell he exuded. It wasn't something she could quite identify, but it was _divine_. There was no other word for it. Aftershave, and maybe a hint of parchment?

"I do not see why we shouldn't be friends. Or why _you_ shouldn't _want_ to be friends with someone whose association would be beneficial to you, as you are put in my house." He said finally, his grey eyes still piercing into her.

Aria shifted her bag on her shoulder wearily. "Look, Riddle, I have nothing against you. We might have gotten off the wrong way, but you do not need to feel the obligation to right that by offering to be mates with me. I'm sure you're doing this to keep up with your perfect image; I assure you I won't tell anyone about your…_lapse_."

Riddle shook his head. "But I don't understand _why_ you find the idea so repulsive."

Aria had to laugh at that, and she did, loudly. The empty corridor reverberated with her chuckles before she finally gasped, "Oh, Riddle. Every girl won't be enamoured with you just because you're good looking!"

That comment seemed to make Riddle stiffen, for he stood ramrod straight and stepped back a few paces too. "I don't see why you don't charm your bag to float alongside you."

That comment sobered Aria up immediately. She bit her lip as she contemplated him silently, before sighing. "I can't do magic."

"What?"

"I can't. I'm on probation, see?" She raised her arm and pushed back the sleeve covering her left wrist. On it glinted a small iron bracelet, devoid of any decoration. It circled around her wrist like a manacle."I'm not allowed to do magic until a certain time specified by the Ministry."

Riddle seemed shocked. He stared at her bracelet with a surprised look. "That's a punishment given to only the most hardened criminals, to help them avoid Azkaban."

"I'm sure I wasn't going to be sent to Azkaban, but since I'm a Muggleborn, they had no qualms doing this."

"You shouldn't parade your blood status around so calmly. Especially not after this." He gestured to her bracelet.

Aria heaved another sigh. "It's not as if they don't already know that Fitz is no pureblood name."

Riddle stepped close to her once more, such that the wide expanse of his robe-covered chest filled her view. "Wouldn't you like to tell me how you got that bracelet?" he asked in a silky smooth tone, his eyes almost demanding. "I assure you, our friendship would be _beneficial_ to us _both_…" he almost hissed, pupils bright and sharp as pinpricks even in the dull light of the corridor.

Aria blinked, her mind a roar of noise, her knees suddenly quivering as he pressed closer. Her fingers reflexively curled into his arm as she cleared her abruptly dry throat. "What do you think you mean?" she managed finally, trying to sound outraged but falling quite short of it.

Riddle chuckled and drew his head back, his fingers catching the underside of her chin. "You know perfectly what I mean, Aria." His finger moved to graze her lower lip, and Aria felt her chest heave slightly as she stood flummoxed.

"Now then," he said, his hand drifted to the hollow of her throat. His thumb moved to brush past the tender skin once more. "Why don't you tell me what I need to know?"

She only gazed at him with wide eyes, words forgotten. Dimly, from some corner, she heard the rational part of her brain screaming at her to get away—because he's a predator, and he's made it clear he will eat her alive for information—but shockingly, she feels no fear. She just feels surprisingly _alive_.

"What's going on here?" A crisp voice alerted Aria before she did anything stupid, like blurting out her deepest darkest secrets to someone like Riddle, and she stumbled back as he let go of her. He stepped back calmly, looking as if he had never been bloody _seducing_ her in the middle of the corridor.

"Nothing, Granger. Nothing at all."

It took a few moments for Aria to register the name, as she struggled vainly to control her beating heart. She had never, ever been so thoroughly seduced, and to her utter disgust, she found she actually like it.

"It doesn't look like nothing, Riddle." Granger persisted, looking at Aria shrewdly. "And who is this?"

Aria's head snapped up to meet the eyes of Hermione Granger, erstwhile part of the Golden Trio, now the Head Girl of Hogwarts. Her bushy hair was as untamed as ever, and she looked dreadfully tired. There were dark circles underneath her eyes. "I'm Aria Fitz." She blurted out before Riddle could say anything. "And I'm a—uhh, new student."

Riddle cleared his throat as Hermione looked at her suspiciously. "She joined today. Headmistress McGonagall asked me to see her to the Slytherin Common Room."

"Right. I'm Hermione Granger. Which year are you in?"

"Sixth. I'm really, really pleased to meet you!" Aria revealed before she could stop herself, and then curled her fingers into a fist to stop herself from slapping her hand into her face. Could she sound any more eager?

Hermione, to her credit, did not look unfazed by the weird new student at all. Instead, she even offered a half-smile. Then she turned to Riddle. "It's way past curfew. You should get going, if you don't want to explain yourselves to an overeager Filch."

"Right you are, Granger. Have fun patrolling." Riddle agreed, stepping aside her to move forward. "Come along, Aria."

Flashing another wide smile to Hermione, Aria followed Riddle across the corridor and down the steps quietly. They entered the dungeons in silence. Then she exploded. "What the bloody hell was that, Riddle?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play _coy_. It doesn't suit you." Aria snarled angrily, as they approached a blank wall in the dungeons.

Riddle didn't even bother to look at her, a smirk already forming on his face. "_Pureblood_." The wall separated to show the Slytherin Common Room. He winked at her outraged face. "After you."

Still scowling, and muttering about narcissistic Head Boy's who thought they could get away with anything, Aria stumbled inside while keeping a death-grip hold on her bag. Riddle followed her smoothly, as graceful as ever. "This is the Slytherin Common Room, a place where you can spend time with your housemates in your spare moments." Aria wordlessly took in the green and silver hangings in the empty cold area, where a dying fire flickered in the corner. There were uncomfortable sofas all around. All in all, it was a far cry from the homey atmosphere of the Gryffindor Common Room. Various doors dotted the circular room, and Aria supposed they were dormitories for different years.

Riddle turned around to step out of the now diminishing door.

"Where are you going?"

He gave her an amused look. "Heads have different Common Rooms, Aria."

Shifting once more on the balls of her feet, she let out a discontented sound. "No, I mean, you have to tell me where _my_ dormitory is."

Riddle raised one smooth eyebrow. "Have you considered _asking_?" he almost purred.

Aria's eyes snapped to his face and she furrowed her brow as she took in the smirking face. Then she groaned. "What does the _mighty_ Riddle want from a Muggleborn like _me_?"

Riddle snickered at that, his grey eyes sweeping across the room before they turned to look at her. "What makes you think I want _anything_ from you?"

She glared at him for one long moment before shaking one finger in his direction. "Look, I don't know what exactly is going on in that twisted brain of yours, but this girl is taking no part in it. None at all, yeah?"

He let out one whoosh of breath before twisting his body so that he faced her. "Don't harbour such strong notions, little bird. You'll be doomed to disappointment."

Aria crossed her arms indignantly. "I'm not a little bird. And I'm not harbouring anything. Your behaviour has been less than exemplary so far. It's bound to make any girl—"she cleared her throat—"think that there is something you want."

Riddle chuckled unexpectedly before spreading his arms wide as if beseeching her. "I repeat, little bird, have you considered asking?"

Aria snarled and turned away, trying to hide her reddening cheeks via her bangs.

"Now, now, don't be like that. I have ego enough for both of us—"

"And about ten more people" she mumbled.

"How about you swallow that unsavoury Gryffindor pride and ask, hmm?"

She pushed the bangs out of her eyes and frowned at him. "Where is my dormitory?"

He pointed to one on the left, next to a green love seat. "Right there, dearest."

Giving him a half-hearted glare, she rushed towards it.

"And Aria," he called out, "snakes _hunt_ little birds for _food_."

She didn't turn around to look at him. _Chicken_, her subconscious chided softly. Then her mind snapped back_, I'm no Gryffindor now_.

* * *

There were five other people already present, sleeping away to glory in the dorm. A sixth bed stood vacant in the corner, her trunk next to it. She stumbled upon a piece of clothing before reaching there and throwing her rucksack down, fell upon her bed gracelessly. For a moment, Aria lay there peacefully, not bothering to even _think_ about the Head Boy's behaviour, before she sighed and turned to her side. Her hand automatically curled once more as she remembered the feel of it upon his arm, his grey eyes smothering her, his fingers upon her throat and chin.

Then she groaned and turned to the other side, trying to block out those thoughts as she inspected her nails. I need to cut them soon, she thought absently, even as she realized that his scent still overwhelmed her. Letting out another small sigh, she got up and walked towards what she assumed was the bathroom. After confirming, she opened her trunk to take out the assortment of Muggle clothing James had made her buy, selected pyjamas and a sweatshirt, and also the strawberry bubble bath, and walked into the bathroom.

A large tub stood in the corner and she made her way to it steadily, before opening the faucets and throwing in some strawberry bubble bath for good measure. Once the tub was overflowing, she threw herself into it almost angrily. _It's no Prefect's bathroom, but it'll do_, she mused, thinking of the time when Ginny had managed to inadvertently make Ron reveal the password. _Good days, good days_. Her muscles started relaxing in the warm water as the aches and joints smoothed out. She felt her troubles melt away for a moment, before she had to step out and wear her chosen clothing. Running her hands through her wet hair, she stepped out cautiously, sighing in relief when none of the girls got up. They all looked unfamiliar; at least from where she was standing.

But then, it wasn't as if she knew any sixth year Slytherins back then anyway. She only knew the Gryffindors properly.

Making her way to the bed, she plopped upon it and moaned at the feeling of utter bliss. At least, for the moment, the wizarding world was safe. Dumbledore had told her to stop worrying and to enjoy her new earned freedom as a witch in a magical world which wasn't prejudiced. But then again, with Dumbledore as Minister, which Dark Lord would dare rise and try to claim power?

Feeling a little happy at that thought, she threw herself back, drew the covers around her and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

"Who do you think she is?" A rather snooty voice invaded Aria's conscious as she rolled over in an attempt to fall back to sleep.

"I have no idea. I've never seen her in Hogwarts before."

"Well, obviously, seeing how she suddenly ended up here." Snooty voice replied, already sounding bored of the conversation.

"Well," a more timid voice ventured, "she's probably a new student. Think we should wake her up?"

Someone snorted. "Definitely not. Why bother? She's probably scum."

Aria shut her eyes tightly, pretending as if still asleep. So there were prejudices in this world too. Unconsciously, she clenched her bed sheets tightly. _No world is utopia, after all_.

"You're absolutely right, Mary. Let's just leave her here. Hopefully, she'll wake up late and get detention." The snooty voiced girl announced, even as Aria heard the door open and all of them stepped out casually.

Only after they had left did Aria open her eyes and groan, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. She got up lethargically, glancing at the clock next to her before sighing. She had one hour to get dressed, eat breakfast and get to class. _It's more than enough_, she thought with a yawn, jumping out of her bed and stretching_. Since I'm not gonna bother with a bath anyway_, she smirked.

Within ten minutes, she had flossed her teeth, wore her school robes over a plaid skirt and white button-down shirt, and managed to throw up her hair in a ponytail. She glanced guiltily at her trunk, as she contemplated her reflection in the mirror. To her utter mortification, James had insisted on buying make-up for her. It wasn't as if she didn't like make-up, but it was supposed to be for a _special_ occasion. Not for _mundane_ things like _school_. She bit her lip as she looked at her washed out face and sighed, drawing out a bit of powder and kohl from the trunk.

Once done, she dabbed a bit of McKenzie's special shining strawberry lip balm, stuck her tongue out at her reflection and skipped out, slinging her rucksack over her shoulder. Not bothering to look up, she stared at her time-table as she walked past Slytherin's in the Common Room. Only when she was outside did she relax, and made her way to the Great Hall.

As soon as she was inside, she sighed a bit on noticing Hogwart's previous glory returned to it. Well, it wasn't as if this dimension had _ever_ lost it, but still, it felt good seeing the cheery atmosphere she was so used to before the Dark Lord had decided on taking over the world. As she walked in, she felt surprisingly nervous. She hadn't felt this nervous, since, well, when Harry Potter had asked her to perform the _Expelliarmus_ Charm during the DA practises. Needless to say, she had messed up considerably, and Harry had to duck to avoid the sudden onslaught of her wand at him.

She stood about two feet away from the Hufflepuff table, frowning as she looked at the Slytherins. There was no one she knew! Excluding Riddle, but at the moment, he didn't really count, especially after he had tried to seduce her last night. For something as trivial as information, no less.

Her eyes narrowed upon spotting the familiar blonde hair and arrogant pose. Sitting next to him were those two brutes she had become accustomed to seeing at the Slytherin table in her time. Next to them, were, surprisingly, more purebloods.

Aria smacked her hand to her head in annoyance. Well, obviously there'd be more people. There was no Voldemort in this realm putting the lives of people in danger, was there?

"Hey, you Aria? Aria Fitz?"

Aria's head snapped up, only to see Harry Potter himself peering down at her from through those familiar moon shaped spectacles of his.

"Harry, we'll find—Oh. Is this her?" Ron Weasley materialized out of nowhere to stand beside Harry.

"I'm not sure mate. She isn't answering."

He was right. She wasn't. She was in too much shock to respond.

"Hey, miss, you alright?" Ron waved a gigantic hand in front of her face.

Aria gulped, before shakily nodding her head. "You look as if you've seen a ghost! You sure you alright?" Ron insisted, staring at her with a worried expression.

Aria cleared her throat. _Snap out of it._ "Yeah, hey. I'm fine. And yes, I'm Aria. Who're…um, you?"

Harry gave her a suspicious look before nodding slowly, as if she were a bit mental. "Harry Potter. You met my father at the Ministry, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. James, right? Very pleased to meet you, Harry."

"This, here, is Ron Weasley."

Aria nodded at him before impulsively sticking her hand out. "Aria Fitz."

Ronald shook it hesitantly, before glancing at her tie. "You Slytherin?"

"Ron!" Harry chided with a displeased expression.

"What? I'm just confirming. Your dad was sure she'd be a Gryffindor!"

"No, it's alright." Aria said dismissively. "I'm Slytherin. _Unfortunately_."

Harry grinned as Ron said decisively. "I think I like her already."

"You want to have breakfast with us? At the Gryffindor table?"

"Oh, yes, please. Thank you so much! I don't know any Slytherin and I'm a—"

"Muggleborn. I know. Dad told me. It really sucks the Hat put you in Slytherin."

"Tell me about it. In another world, I would definitely be a Gryffindor." _I was already a Gryffindor once. _

They made their way to the Gryffindor table in silence after that, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was more companionable.

"Guys, this is Aria Fitz. She's a new student. Aria, this here is Seamus, Neville, Dean, Edward, Amy, and Hermione."

All seventh year Gryffindors looked up at her, and nodded, before Hermione exclaimed, "You were the girl with Riddle last night!"

Aria scratched the back of her head in a sheepish manner. "We weren't lying. He really was escorting me to the Slytherin Tower."

"But you guys were so—"

She shut up suddenly when Aria gave her a pointed glare.

"So what?" Ron prompted, glancing between her and Hermione.

Aria pushed down the tell-tale blush before it could spread to her face and sighed. "Nothing. Riddle was just being a prat."

"You're wrong." All of them turned to stare at Neville with a questioning look. "I- I mean, Riddle isn't a prat." He said all of this very fast as if he was afraid someone would shout at him. This Neville obviously hadn't come out of his shell.

"He's okay for a Slytherin." Seamus commented, before turning to look at Dean. "Doesn't he always help you with Herbology?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he's really helpful. We're sort of mates, y'know?" He sounded almost…_proud_.

Aria frowned. "He was really rude to me last night…"

"You must've caught him on a bad day." Ron muttered, as Aria looked at him with an incredulous expression. Ronald Weasley standing up for a Slytherin? "Don't look at me like that!" he said upon noticing Aria's look. "He's really decent as compared to the rest of the lot."

"I think he's a know-it-all," Hermione said primly before returning her nose into the book she was reading.

"Well, it's a good thing nobody asked you then, right?"

Hermione turned a brilliant shade of red at Ron's rebuttal, but didn't look up. The girl, Amy, sitting next to Hermione frowned at Ron before shaking her head resignedly.

Wait a minute.

They weren't friends in this timeline?!

Aria looked on in shock as Ron gave a very disinterested look towards the bushy haired Head Girl before stretching his arms and reclining on the bench. "You're awfully quiet on this, Harry."

Harry replied thoughtfully. "Well, for one, I haven't really exchanged more than two words with him in all my years at Hogwarts, so I really can't say."

"Won-Won!" There was a squeal, and Lavender Brown came rushing towards the Gryffindor table to hug Ronald from behind. Ron turned around to engage her in a very disgusting lip-lock that made all of them turn away.

"…They're dating?" Aria asked weakly, and noticed Hermione's glare towards the couple.

"Unfortunately." The Head Girl replied, before pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Aria followed her example, trying to drown out the disgusting sounds coming from the couple. "Aren't you dating someone, then?"

"Not really…"

"Hermione's too focussed in beating Tom!" Amy chirped loudly, earning a glare from the girl in question.

"Beating Tom?"

"Well, these two have been tied for the highest marks for the last six years. It's been quite the enlightening battle."

"Amy, shut up!" Hermione hissed, looking uncomfortable before turning to Aria. "Don't mind her. She just talks unnecessarily."

"Well, I'm not." Amy huffed loudly. "Everyone knows you and Tom have this battle sort of thing going on."

To spare Hermione from unnecessary embarrassment, Aria tried to change the topic. "You'll beat him, Hermione. He's a right prat anyway."

"Who exactly is a prat, Aria?"

The silky voice left no doubt as to who the owner of those words were.

Aria resisted the urge to bang her head on the table, before turning around slowly to face Riddle in all his Head Boy glory.

"What do you want?"

"I'm supposed to be escorting you to class, for today."

"…I don't fucking care…" Aria murmured underneath her breath before straightening up. "There's still fifteen minutes to class."

"The real reason I'm here is because you're sitting at the wrong table."

"There's no such hard and fast rule, Riddle." Hermione spoke up in her defense. Riddle glanced at her before staring at Aria once more.

"I think she should at least try to bond with her Housemates. As Head Boy, it is my duty to see her settled into her house." He smirked like the bastard he was.

"That's bloody nonsense. They don't _want_ to bond with me."

"Aria, don't be stubborn. At least come and say hello to the people of your House!"

Aria gave a helpless look to Harry who sighed. "Go, Aria. He's right. You should at least be _trying_ to bond with them."

"_Traitor_." She mouthed at him, before getting up and flinging her rucksack over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get this over with."

* * *

"Is she a pureblood?" Draco Malfoy drawled in that accent of his even as he played with an apple in his hand. "Fitz doesn't sound like a pureblood name."

Trying not to strangle him, Aria gave a discreet cough. "I'm right here, you know."

That made Draco finally look at her. His stupid henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle were staring her down. Next to Draco, Pansy Parkinson bristled at her comment and Alois Lestrange glared at her.

Yes, Lestrange. Apparently, Bellatrix had a baby.

_Someone kill me already._

Blaise Zabini gave a booming laugh which he turned to a cough upon encountering Draco's displeased look. Riddle too, chuckled softly before nodding. "Yes, Draco, why don't you ask her yourself?"

Looking bored as hell, Draco glanced at her. "So. You a pureblood?"

"No."

"Well, I can't say that was unexpected." A familiar voice said loudly from next to Pansy. "I mean, have you seen the way she drools in her sleep?"

Oh, right. This was her dorm mate. The snooty one.

"Now, now, Elizabeth, let's not be rude." Riddle said in a very amused tone that made Aria want to repeatedly hit her bag over his head. "She is your new dorm mate."

"_She_ needs to go through the initiation."

Aria raised her eyebrows as Astoria Greengrass sauntered in. She stood next to Riddle, before standing up on her tiptoes and pecking his cheek.

Riddle turned to smirk at her. "Astoria Greengrass, another one of your dorm mates, and also my girlfriend."

Aria suddenly realized what an arse she had made out of herself last night while insinuating all the things she had at Riddle. He had a girlfriend, for Merlin's sake! _Get it together, Fitz_. "…Fan-fucking-tastic. Can I go back to the Gryffindor table now?"

"I could give you detention for the usage of foul language."

"I could ask Hermione to nullify it."

"She can't nullify a detention given by the Head Boy, Aria."

"Please. I've read 'Hogwarts: A History'. You can't fool me." Aria retorted, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly. Just how much of a fool did Riddle think she was?  
Riddle raised one perfect eyebrow in surprise.

"What's an initiation anyway?"

Astoria shot her a bored look. "Daphne? Care to explain?"

"What's the use? She's a Mudblood." Daphne Greengrass snapped nastily.

"Daphne! Do you want a detention?" Riddle growled suddenly, before Aria could reply. "You know I can't allow you to speak such language in school."

"For once, I agree with Daphne." Draco drawled, raising his arms over his head as he yawned.

Aria glared at all of them angrily. "I don't have to deal with this shit," she murmured, before turning on her heel to walk away. Surprisingly, Riddle grabbed a hold of her arm before she could go. She automatically tried to take a step back upon seeing his face. He looked positively livid.

"I will not tolerate this behaviour from any of you!" he snapped suddenly at all the assembled Slytherins. "Until she has been initiated, and her fate has been decided, all of you will behave in a polite manner. Is that understood?"

Alois was the one who spoke up this time. "Riddle's right. Until the… _Muggleborn_ has been initiated; we have to follow the rules."

"I don't want to see a single toe out of line until then; otherwise I'll deduct points and give you all a month's detention."

There were choruses of 'Yes Tom's', before silence descended upon the Slytherin table.

"Come on Aria, let's get you to class."

* * *

**A/N:Please, Please Review. I beg you. *pouts* Reviews are food, as one author so kindly put. Don't leave me hungry, because when you're hungry, you don't feel like writing. I know that more than 10 people are following this story, and around 8(?) of you have favourite-d it. So pleeeeeease. C'mon. Help me out here. Does Riddle seem alright? Do the Slytherin's seem alright? What about the Riddle-Aria interaction? **

..


	4. Chapter 4

Astoria Greengrass _knew_ she was beautiful. It was a fact ever reminded by her various house elves, her House mates, even the random first year that would look up in awe upon seeing her enter the room. Her long, blonde hair thrown in a carefully messy updo, her green eyes sparkling with vitality, her slim figure encased in a uniform that brought out her slender waist and long shapely legs, all pointed to the irrevocable fact that she was _not_ just pretty; she was a _goddess_ in her own right. She owned the most sought after boy of Hogwarts, yes, Astoria was the figure of envy, lust, jealousy, admiration and even grudging respect from other Houses. She elicited various reactions from every person in the celebrated school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And yet, whenever she was with Tom, Astoria did not feel pretty in any way.

It could be attributed to the fact that Tom was, after all, a _God_ in his _own_ right. A higher species that possessed personal ownership of every girlish heart in Hogwarts, even a few boys thrown in for good measure. Tom was _her_ boyfriend, _her_ other half, _her_ special one. Nevertheless, often, Tom did not seem to be hers at all.

"An initiation is what decides your social status in Slytherin." Tom said suddenly, his smooth baritone snapping Astoria into reality.

Aria Fitz, the new girl raised her eyebrows in a rather annoyed gesture. "Just how exclusive does Slytherin think it is?"

"_Very_ exclusive. We, after all, more or less are the public faces of Hogwarts."

"Only because you _buy_ your way everywhere."

Out of nowhere, Tom burst out laughing, making the Fitz girl flinch unexpectedly in surprise. Astoria narrowed her eyes angrily. "She's insulting _our_ House. I don't think that merits a laugh."

Tom stopped, and gave her a very condescending pat on her arm. "Do you want me to carry your books?"

For the first time, Astoria didn't want anything to do with him. She looked away haughtily. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Merlin, what century is this?" Fitz quipped in between, rolling her eyes at both of them. "Since when can't a girl carry her own books?"

"Quite the feminist, aren't you?" Tom remarked coolly, walking in between both of them as an anchor. Astoria had yet to say a word to the new girl. She preferred not associating with Muggle borns, leaving the unseemly job for her boyfriend. But she did steal glances at her when she thought- _hoped_ none of them had noticed. The new Slytherin wasn't remarkably striking in any way. Her black hair and black eyes, coupled with a rich, fair skin tone did not make her a girl that one would turn back to notice. Her lips were plump, yes, and her figure was debatable underneath those unflattering robes, but so far, she was forgettable.

Fitz snorted in an unladylike manner, hefting her overfilled bag to her shoulders and increased her pace as she said loudly, "You got that right."

In the lull that followed, she continued, "So. What exactly are the probable social statuses we're looking at here?"

To her surprise, Astoria felt compelled to answer. "Four. There are four of them. Pureblood, Acceptable, Outcast, Threatened. Being a Mudblood, the best you can hope from us is to be an Outcast."

"And what's the criterion for that?"

This time, Tom answered her poorly worded question. "It depends actually, on what the Head feels like testing you on."

"Who's the Head?"

Tom smiled languorously, the grin eating its way across his face which was suddenly filled with menace. "Why, _me_, of course."

Abruptly, Astoria stopped in surprise. It wasn't an expression she was used to seeing on Tom, _her_ Tom. The teasing, playful glint in his eyes never surfaced when he was with her; he never looked at her like this, as if, as if he wanted nothing more than to fluster her senseless.

Dimly, Astoria noticed that he had succeeded, of course. Fitz had stopped too, her eyes wide and her breathing suddenly louder and faster.

Astoria felt _threatened_.

"C'mon, c'mon, hurry in. We don't have all day." Slughorn ambled in, pushing the trio into the classroom with his girth. "Tom, m'boy, do take your seat. I see you brought the new girl."

Fitz nodded profusely, her face still flushed. "I'm Aria Fitz, Professor."

Slughorn smiled indulgently. "Ah, a good addition to our House, I'm sure. Why don't you take that cauldron in the corner, over there? Since the rest of the class has already begun brewing the Draught of Living Peace in partners, it's best if you work alone."

"Of course, Professor." Fitz walked away smartly, robes billowing behind her as she made her way to the back.

"Come on, we need to finish the potion today." Tom whispered in her ear, creating unnecessary goosebumps across her arm. She shivered as she followed him to their cauldron, and unceremoniously dumped her books on the bench, creating a loud thud.

"What's wrong with you?" Tom snapped when eyes swivelled to look at both of them.

Astoria scowled. "Nothing."

He didn't press the issue, instead opting to peek into the fuming cauldron as he dropped lacewing flies into it. Astoria's scowl stayed on her face as she observed him. She had just created a scene, and he didn't even bother investigating?

No wonder they were called the _Ice_ _Couple_.

Astoria crossed her arms primly and sat down on the bench, ignoring his questioning look. After a few moments, he ran his hand through his hair angrily. "_Astoria_…" he warned quietly, when she didn't hand him the ingredients he had requested.

"Why do you behave so familiarly with that girl?"

Tom raised one eyebrow. "What girl?"

"You know who I'm talking about!" she hissed in response, taking care to keep her voice low. It would be all over the school if anyone knew they were having trouble in paradise.

"The Mudblood?"

Hearing him call her that alleviated her mood, but only slightly. She nodded. "Yes. That one."

"You're being ridiculous. Now pass me the unicorn's blood."

"_NO_!" she replied angrily, suddenly not caring about the scene it would make. "Not until, not until you tell me what's going on between you and her."

Tom looked uncomfortable as their various Housemates began eavesdropping on their conversation. "Merlin, Astoria, she joined _yesterday_. At least give me _some_ credit." He said quietly.

"So that means that given time, it…you and her is _possible_?"

This time, he was the one scowling. "Do you know just how ridiculous you sound right now?"

"I don't fucking care about that. All I want… Tom. You're my—life. I couldn't do—I mean, I can't—and you and her—I just—"

"Astoria…" he placed his arms on her shoulders when her eyes threatened to glaze over. "Look at me. Hey, up here." He tilted her chin upwards. "You have no reason to feel insecure. I—I _promise_."

When she didn't reply, he sighed, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. She smiled tentatively when his lips moved forward to capture hers in an effortless kiss that made her feel as if she melting—melting and soaring up high, her head suddenly light and knees utterly weak. Her lips took time to respond, but when she did, he deepened the kiss almost immediately.

A loud chortle drew them apart, with her gasping for air. Slughorn almost smirked at both of them. "I'm sure there's a better time for that."

Tom nodded serenely, looking completely unperturbed. "You're absolutely right, Professor. We just got carried away, I'm afraid."

* * *

Aria rushed out of her Potions class as fast as she could, before Slughorn could come and investigate the ruins in her cauldron. The potion was supposed to be pink and opaque; it turned out brown with the consistency of gruel. Frowning still at the memory, she took faster steps to ensure that the Head Boy and his little Doll did not find her, lest they opt to escort her to yet another class. The tension between them when she was around was so thick; one could slice it apart with a _blunt_ knife. Teaching regime in Hogwarts Potion class was more or less the same, only difference being that the sixth and seventh years of one particular House took the class together. What brought about that particular rule, she didn't even want to know.

Her robes swished across her ankle in a very infuriating fashion as Aria rushed out of the door, almost flattening a second year Hufflepuff in her haste. He gave a very scared squeak upon seeing her House colours. Honestly speaking, without her magic, the second year was probably more dangerous than she could be right then.

Next to Astoria, Aria had felt like a clumsy oaf. Her beauty, too, made Aria feel completely insecure, as did the uniform she wore, sans the robes which flattered her figure to an extent that Aria couldn't even have dreamed of, even if she did possess that body. Which she didn't, so the point was moot. And Riddle! The nerve of that boy. Deciding her social status? What sort of absurdity was that, anyway?

She had reached the Greenhouse sometime during her deliberation. When she stepped in, she felt relief upon noticing that it was completely empty. Hesitantly, she took a seat on the second last bench, praying that she wasn't intruding upon some really nasty Slytherins.

Slowly, students began to trickle in, forming groups of two and three. Nervously, Aria buried her head in her Herbology textbook, trying to look as if she belonged.

"So you're the new girl, eh?" Ginny Weasley said brightly, slipping into the seat next to her. The difference between this Ginny, and the previous one was palpable. This Ginny was _gorgeous_, her face unmarred by stress and worry, her red hair flowing freely behind her as she smiled vivaciously. "Ron told me about you. He's my elder brother. Oh, by the way, I'm Ginny Weasley."

Aria shook the proffered hand.

"I hope you don't mind, but Harry told Ron who told me about your parents. I'm so sorry to hear about that! You must be feeling dreadful!" Ginny paused then, looking at her expectantly.

Taking that as her cue, Aria coughed uncomfortably. "Yeah, it's—"

"Merlin, I'm so sorry! I'm being so insensitive right now! My friends do keep saying I shoot off my mouth way too fast. We don't need to talk about that, if you don't want. It's dreadful you got sorted into Slytherin. Gryffindor is way better, of course." She stopped again, giving her yet another expectant look.

Aria chose not to reply, instead, smiled benignly. Ginny seemed to take that as an appropriate response as she gestured to the two witches flanking her. "This is Dylan," she said as she pointed to the short, brown haired girl with startling grey eyes. "And this is Lauren." Lauren was the one with the distrustful look in her black eyes. Aria felt like sighing; in one era, all three witches were fast friends, as was expected upon sharing a dormitory. She had no idea who Lauren was though, so she peered at her a little curiously before sighing mentally. It was expected there'd be more people since Voldemort hadn't gone on his kill spree yet.

Unsure of how to approach them now that they weren't the same people she knew, Aria nodded at both of them, and they nodded back.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?"

"It's great."

"I know, right? I simply couldn't wait to be of age. I was so jealous of my elder brothers, it was crazy!" Ginny threw in a laugh in there as she gestured wildly with her hands, as if to emphasize just how crazy she was."

"Gather around, gather around." Professor Sprout interrupted as she ambled into the room, her green hat clashing with her chosen orange robes. "Today, we—wait. Who're you?" she asked as her eyes fell upon Aria.

Ginny, her saviour chimed in. "She's the new girl, Professor."

"That's right. I'm uh—Aria Fitz."

"Yes, the Headmistress told me about you. Well. Since you joined late, young lady, I'll exempt you from today's test." Loud groans permeated the atmosphere, but Sprout continued on. "You can have this period as free."

Not believing her luck, Aria nodded, grabbed her things and waved goodbye to Ginny and her friends who looked at her forlornly. Then she walked out of the Greenhouse happily.

* * *

As she walked into the castle, Aria came across Riddle and Hermione in deep discussion. They hadn't noticed her, so she bowed her head down as she tried to keep their eyes off her. Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Riddle raised his head, met her eyes and smirked.

"Skipping class on the first day, Fitz?"

Aria huffed indignantly. "Sprout gave me the day off. Hey, Hermione," she added as an afterthought.

"Aria. How's your first day been?"

"I've only attended Potions so far, and it was fine."

Hermione nodded wisely. "Yes, Slughorn has many faults, but his classes usually aren't boring."

"Why'd she give you the day off?" Riddle interrupted, looking annoyed on being excluded from the conversation. Hermione gave him a tolerant look and winked at Aria, gesturing at him.

Aria smiled, glad to have found a common ground between her and the Head Girl. "She's taking a surprise test today."

"Ooh, I love surprise tests!" Hermione said suddenly, and then turned pink upon seeing their amused faces. "What? They're enlightening!"

"Only because you know everything already." Riddle retorted, looking quite comfortable with his companion Head.

"Don't give me that nonsense, Riddle. You know everything too."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I _like_ giving surprise tests."

"Aria, back me up here!"

Aria looked at both of them and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, since you _both_ outrank me; I'm going to play the diplomatic card."

Riddle made a triumphant sound as Hermione squeaked. "We don't abuse our powers, Aria!"

"You don't, but _he_ might."

"Touché, little bird."

"I told you not to call me that."

Riddle ignored her. "I believe you've lost this round, Granger."

Hermione scrunched her nose to form a very adorable expression. "Since when was this a competition?"

"When are we not competing?"

"Good point."

Aria watched the exchange with a troubled expression on her face. Riddle was associating with not one, but two Mudbloods together, and looked as if he was even _enjoying_ himself. Suddenly, she found herself recalling Dumbledore's words, 'he might be different in this timeline.'

Could it be true? Could Riddle actually not be on the path to conquer the world and usher in a new era of wizard supremacy? Merlin forbid, could Riddle actually _not_ be Lord Voldemort in this world?

The idea made her feel surprisingly warm and happy. Which was disturbing in itself.

"What do you think, Aria?" Hermione asked suddenly, bring her back to Earth.

"Uhm—"Aria gave her an apologetic look.

"I don't think she was even listening to us, Granger." Riddle said with an amused look on his face as Aria squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione abruptly smiled warmly. "It's perfectly alright. I would doze off too, if I had to listen to both of us argue once again. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind right now."

"No, it was still very rude of me."

The Head Girl waved it off impatiently. "I remember when I first saw Hogwarts too. I was distracted to bits. It's a natural reaction."

"Yeah, well," Aria fidgeted uncomfortably, shooting a quick glance at Riddle. He gave her a questioning look when she sighed. "I need to tell you something, Hermione. Since you're Head Girl and all. Riddle already knows. I can't use magic."

"Wait, _what_?"

"She's on probation," Riddle supplied on her behalf. "From the Ministry."

"But why? What did you do?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, I'm afraid."

Both the Heads turned to look at Aria eagerly. She raised her right hand to uncover the sleeve of her robe and show the glinting metal bracelet. Hermione frowned, but Riddle sported a very unnerving expression as he met her eyes. Aria looked away immediately.

"I'd rather not tell, if that's okay. It's not something too bad, I promise!" She added when Hermione opened her mouth, probably to contradict her.

On hearing that, Hermione sighed. "Well, it is your secret. We can't exactly force you to tell. I don't need to remind you to be careful and not take unnecessary risks, yeah?"

Aria nodded vigorously. "I'll take care. I do have some self-preservation instincts!" she added when Riddle snorted in disbelief. "What? I do!"

Riddle shook his head. "I don't think so, Aria. You basically antagonize every Slytherin you meet with courage worthy of a Gryffindor. You—"

"…I knew I should've been in Gryffindor." Aria mumbled.

"—have the self-preservation instincts of a Blast Ended Skrewt." Riddle continued, untroubled by her interruption.

"That's rude." She said flatly, at a loss for words.

"But true."

"You exaggerate."

"You understate."

"You make a mountain out of a molehill."

"You'll ultimately force the said 'molehill' to erupt."

"That makes no sense."

"On the contrary, it explains your situation perfectly."

"Bite me, Riddle."

Riddle smirked at her. "I just might take you up on that offer."

Aria's indignant sputter and Hermione's disbelieving yelp made his smirk stretch even wider. The corners of his mouth now threatened to form a fully-fledged smile as Aria turned red, her mouth forming a small o of surprise.

"_You_ _offered_," he reminded when both of them remained silent.

"Yes, but I—I didn't—I mean, I wasn't—Gah. Never mind. Can we please talk about something else?" She finished hurriedly, avoiding looking at Riddle, instead fixing her eyes on the Head Girl who still sported an incredulous expression. Her own face was still warm as she bit her lower lip uncertainly.

"Yes, well—"Hermione cleared her throat. "I have Head duties, so I'll see you both around."

Ignoring Aria's imploring expression which screamed at her to stay, Hermione gave a small wave, turned on her heel and marched away, bushy hair flying in an unruly manner. Aria stared at her retreating back for a few moments before slowly turning to look at Riddle.

Whose smirk made her want to pummel something.

"What do you want?"

"_We_ need to discuss your detention."

"What detention?" she asked stupidly, before smacking her forehead with her hand. "Right. The McGonagall one. What about it?"

"It's on Halloween."

"Your point being?"

Riddle exhaled slowly, as if wondering why he was troubling himself with an oaf like her. Aria glared at him as he did so. "It means that _I_ will be conducting your detention."

"What?" she asked again, albeit stupidly once more, not quite believing her ears. "Could you repeat yourself? I thought you just said that you would be conducting my detention but that's impossible because _Filch conducts all detentions_!" she hissed angrily at the end.

He shrugged in response.

"Why me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why am I going to be the one stuck with a tosser like you?"

Riddle smiled in an amused fashion. "Your red face indicates the opposite, little bird."

Flustered, Aria ran her fingers through her hair, surreptiously trying to use it to cover her cheeks. "The weather is warm."

Riddle made a small sound of disagreement, but thankfully did not press the issue. Instead, he seemed to be looking behind her at something. Or someone, as it was indicated, when he said a bit too smoothly, "Hello Astoria. How was Herbology?"

Astoria Greengrass sauntered forward, hips sashaying and all, before stopping on seeing just exactly who was standing with her boyfriend. Her face immediately turned sour. "What is she doing here?"

Ignoring her, Aria began hefting her bag up, preparing to leave, even as Riddle said, "We were discussing her detention."

"She got detention on her first day of school?"

Unable to stay silent anymore, Aria snapped irritably, "On the first night, actually. _Problem_?"

Astoria sneered at her. "What an _uncouth_…_Muggleborn_. Don't you know how to respect your superiors?"

Aria made a show of looking around before replying. "I'm afraid I just can't see any. Do you mind? You're blocking my way."

"Your untamed tongue will be the cause of great misery and suffering!"

Aria rolled her eyes. "Since when are you a Seer?"

Astoria stepped forward so that they were eye to eye. Before she could say anything though, Riddle put a casual arm on her shoulders. "Why don't we leave this discussion for her initiation tonight, dearest?"

At the mention of the initiation, Astoria scoffed before standing upright and giving Aria a cold look. She smiled at Riddle before nodding. "You're quite right. Let's see who the one having the last laugh is."

Suddenly annoyed beyond measure, Aria pushed past the two Slytherins to make her way to her next class. History of Magic, as it was. Her mood which had risen slightly since Herbology plummeted once more.

* * *

_Dear_—Mr Potter? James? – _James_,

_Thank you so much for asking Harry to look out for me. He's been great, - _especially since I was sorted into Slytherin_. In the original timeline, I was a Gryffindor, but the ruddy Hat disagreed this time, probably to make my life difficult. You must be wondering why I'm writing to you. Actually, I uhh, need some sensitive information, pertaining to my new House. I didn't know who to ask, seeing how not many people know the truth and asking Dumbledore is just…weird because he's Minister of Magic and almost certainly has a lot more to do than while his time on replying to me . _

_I wish to know if there have been any pureblood uprisings in the recent century; anything after Grindelwald. Also, a note on all children on the following families currently attending Hogwarts would be nice: Black, Malfoy, Dolohov, Rosier, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Yaxley, Nott, Lestrange, Gamp, and Burke. _

_I'm sorry if I seem too presumptuous, but I must simply know._

_Thank you,_

_Yours, Aria._

* * *

As she was exiting the library after checking out the books she needed for her History of Magic project, Aria was accosted by Ginny, Dylan, Lauren, and surprisingly, Hermione, who looked unbelievably disgruntled. Upon seeing Aria, Hermione shot her a very furtive look that seemed misplaced on the Head Girl. Aria turned her head to hide her flushed cheeks as her mind went back to Riddle and his insinuation.

Not the she wanted to think of it. Really, she didn't.

Okay, maybe just a little. But the one who said 'ignorance is bliss' knew what he was talking of, after all. It was better just to push Riddle at the corner of her mind—and he had a bloody girlfriend, of course…

"I was just wondering where you were! We can't have you miss the most important event of Hogwarts now, can we?" Ginny said eagerly, cheeks flushed with happiness. That was when Aria noticed her Quidditch uniform.

Dylan rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ginevra, the way you talk—one would think that we're going to a concert of The Weird Sisters."

Ginny tossed her hair and threw her nose in the air. "Look who's in denial; as if you just aren't dying to see Cormac McLaggen try out!"

Dylan sputtered as Lauren and Hermione laughed. For herself, Aria gave a questioning look which didn't go unnoticed as Ginny explained, "Dylan's been infatuated with that ponce since fourth year. It's pathetic, really."

Of course Aria knew this already, but some pretence needs to be made, as McGonagall had once told her as she was preparing. She needed to act as if she was unfamiliar with everyone, as if she had never known them before. It was hard, but it wasn't as if she could throw her arms around Ginny and portray them as best friends. Everyone would think she had visited the loony bin, and Aria did _not_ need rumours about her at all. Ultimately, it helped that she had been sorted into Slytherin. Briefly, she wondered if it was on purpose, to help her settle down more.

"It's not pathetic." Dylan defended weakly, but shaking her head good-naturedly.

"Well, sure, but you should have done something by now." Lauren said wisely, ever the voice of reason. The Head Girl sighed.

"I've seen McLaggen at prefect meetings. Honestly, he's a right prat."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to know." Dylan retorted.

"What does he look like?" Aria interrupted.

"Well, according to Dylan, he's dishy, but I agree he's pretty fit." Ginny said lightly, ushering them out of the castle. "You'll see for yourself in a few minutes. The try-outs are amazing fun, and—"she smiled brightly, - "you can cheer for me."

"Ginny, we _always_ cheer for you. And we all know you're going to make it anyway." Lauren said.

"Harry would be an idiot not to pick you as the Chaser." Hermione added, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but at the Quidditch pitch. "Oh, look, there's Amy." Hermione waved at the seventh year enthusiastically who gestured at them to join the stands with her. "We'll see you around, yeah? Come on, Dylan, Lauren, Aria."

Waving a quick goodbye to Ginny, who sauntered to the pitch confidently, Aria followed the trio over to where Amy was sitting calmly, hands bunched in a Gryffindor scarf on her lap. "It's Peakes'. His good luck charm or something."

Lauren raised one dainty eyebrow. "And he gave it to you?"

Amy gave her a disapproving look as she scooted over to make room for them. "You have a disgusting mind, McKinnon."

"Yeah, she's a right ol' slag, our Laurie." Dylan said sarcastically, gripping the edge of her seat as she peered out into the pitch.

"Don't call me Laurie."

"So, Harry's Captain then?" Aria asked Lauren quietly, knowing her to be the more approachable, especially now when Cormac McLaggen might be on the pitch and Dylan was elsewhere all together.

Lauren nodded and flashed an uncertain smile. "Made his dad real proud when he got the position. He actually has a Firebolt now, as a gift from his godfather."

"I met his dad at the Ministry. He's bloody brilliant."

In the corner, Hermione peeked up in interest on hearing a mention of the Ministry. "Why were you at the Ministry, then, Aria?" she asked innocently.

Aria gave her an irritable look. "I had some work there."

"Of course you did."

"_Hermione_…" she warned, relenting only when the Head Girl sighed and raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Look, they've started!" she exclaimed when Lauren looked as if she wanted to know more.

And started, they had. Ginny, Natalie MacDonald, and Demelza Robins streaked across the pitch, showcasing their brilliant moves as they huddled the quaffle between each other and turned towards the hoops. Ron was Keeping, and when Harry blew his whistle, they sped again, and Ginny threw one well-aimed quaffle at the rightmost hoop.

Ron blocked it, and Lavender Brown cheered from somewhere down the stands.

Hermione gave a small groan. "I can't stand her at all."

"Won-Won is a ridiculous endearment." Aria agreed, mentally thinking of the Golden Trio.

"And she's just so unbelievably whiny."

Amy giggled a little. "Yes, well, but she and Ron are perfect for each other. They both look nice together."

Lauren sighed. "I think Ron and Hermione would be a better couple."

"What, _no_!"

"Don't you agree, Dylan?"

Dylan looked at them blankly before proceeding to bore holes into McLaggen once more. Aria took over for her. "I believe I agree."

"No, I think Riddle and Hermione would make the ultimate couple. They're both so smart, and they also work together _all the time_." Amy said, nudging Hermione in the ribs and winking at her.

Hermione gave yet another groan. "No. Not at all. I think Astoria and Riddle are fine for each other. The renowned Ice Couple."

"The _what_?"

"That's what Hogwarts calls them. The Ice Couple, because they both don't seem together at all. You know, no hand-holding, snogging in the corridors, being cute in class, they're quite…_unhappening_." Lauren explained meticulously.

"But they were snogging in Potions today."

"Really? Were they? I myself have never heard rumours—"

"That's because Riddle's Head Boy and he needs to maintain his image." Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "How can he expect people to obey him when he himself behaves like that?"

"Is that your excuse for your forced priggishness?" Amy teased, sticking her tongue out.

Hermione scoffed. "Hardly. There's just no one worth it in Hogwarts."

"You're just being daft. Have you _seen_ the blokes in our year? Okay, moment of truth. Would you jump Riddle if you had the chance?"

"Obviously not." Hermione said prudishly, crossing her arms.

Amy sighed. "What about you both?"

Lauren gave a breathless laugh before nodding and Aria turned red. "Uhm—I've never exactly—That's just—" she stuttered, remembering the feel of his fingers across her jaw, working their way to her neck and resting on her pulse. Forcefully, she pushed her hand down before it could trace the path his fingers took.

"That sounds suspiciously like yes."

"What? _No_. _NO_! I'm not comfortable discussing this." She replied, squirming on her seat.

"I don't believe it!" Amy gasped. "You're just as much of a prude as Hermione, here!"

"I'm just not comfortable discussing…_shagging_. How is that being a prude?"

"Darling, did you _hear_ the way you just said shagging? You're definitely a prude. How many blokes have you been with?"

Aria blinked. "…None."

Amy gave a victorious laugh. "I knew it."

Lauren frowned softly. "Let her be, Amy. It's her wish."

Amy still smirked brilliantly. "I know, but still. What are the odds of meeting another Hermione who—"

"I'm right here you know. And before you ask, yes, I will take House points if you continue that sentence."

"…_Killjoy_."

"Oh, look, McLaggen's trying out now!" Dylan said out of the blue, drawing their attention to the pitch once more. "I don't think he'll get it though. Harry made Ron try out and he didn't miss a single goal."

"What is she talking about?"

"It's best to leave her alone when it comes to McLaggen."

"Right you are."

* * *

They walked down to the pitch once the try-outs were over to congratulate Ginny and Ron, who had made it to the team, and to meet Harry. The Gryffindor changing room reeked with the smell of sweat and the musty odour of brooms. Harry met them outside and smiled widely.

"You were present for the whole try-outs?"

"Of course—"Lauren said, glancing at Dylan. "We were forced to by Dylan and Gin."

"It's nice to see you outside, Hermione." Harry said, still smiling but ignoring Lauren's controversial words. "You too, Aria. Enjoying Hogwarts?"

"It's been brilliant."

"Aria's a prude." Amy blurted, before sheepishly covering her mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry; I just couldn't keep it a secret!"

"Ehm—"Harry said awkwardly as Aria sighed.

"This is ludicrous. I'm _not_ a prude."

"You have problems saying shagging."

"Look, there's Ron and Ginny!" Hermione interrupted, waving away Aria's look of gratitude. "Congratulations, both of you."

Ron grunted ungraciously, but Ginny beamed at them. "Thank you! I was so worried about not being selected."

"…That's a bloody lie." Hermione murmured underneath her breath, but Aria heard it and smirked.

"Blimey, is Lavender here too?"

Ron went ignored as Lavender came running towards him, squealing.

"Come on; let's go back to the castle."

"Right. I need to take a shower."

"You guys carry on. I need to lock the shed and secure the crates." Harry said, already turning back to the shed.

They entered the Great Hall with a sweating Ginny and Demelza, who was being congratulated before she ushered off to her friends. Ginny stared after the younger girl forlornly. "She's almost scared of me, now."

"You are known to be intimidating." Lauren agreed, throwing her hair about as Tom Riddle made their way to them.

"What do you want?" Aria snapped, before realizing how rude she sounded, and how the phrase had come to become her catch-statement while dealing with Riddle. She attempted to look contrite when all of them stared at her, but she had an inkling she had failed when Lauren gave her a scathing look as if trying to remind her how Riddle was the _'good-looking prat'_.

Riddle smirked when Lauren asked politely, "Is there something you want, Tom?"

Hermione, Aria's one and only ally, sighed as she pushed past Ginny to stand in front of Riddle with her hands on her hips. "Honestly, don't mind him." She said to the rest of them. "He probably wants to talk about the Halloween preparations."

"Actually," Riddle began in his smooth voice, "Aria was the one I wanted. Slytherin business."

Aria grimaced, as she thought about the initiation that had been mentioned previously. "Is it going to be dangerous?" she demanded.

"Why, you scared?"

"_Hardly_." Aria said, pulling on her collar in an attempt to smoothen it out. "Anyway, I'm allowed to be, since Slytherin's are the scared bunch."

"Like I said, no self-preservation instincts."

Hermione exhaled noisily. "You two fight worse than me and Riddle do."

"Well, he started it."

Dylan snorted at that, and Amy gave a tittering laugh. "You fight like an old married couple."

Looking scandalized, Aria only managed a half strangled sound before Ginny grabbed her broom tightly and nodded at Riddle, before turning to the rest of them. "Well, come on then. Let's leave these two alone. See you around, Aria."

"See you…" Aria said dismally, completely unhappy with the change of events. She turned to Riddle expectantly.

"Well, to the Common Room."

* * *

"Well, can we get this over faster? I'm meeting Celeste in the broom closet on the fifth floor." This was the first thing Aria heard as she entered the Common Room. She scowled at Alois, before noticing how the rest of the purebloods were draped upon the chairs and couches. Inwardly, she groaned. It seemed as if _all_ of them would be deciding her so-called fate.

"Stuff it, Lestrange. Stop showing off about landing Warbeck."

"Quiet, both of you..." Riddle hissed, before taking a seat in the centre, lounging upon it as if it was a throne. "As an introduction, there are four statuses you may aim for. Pureblood, wherein only sixth and seventh years are accepted, or the rest, which range from Acceptable to Threatened. What is your aspiration?"

Aria gulped at the formal tone, before drawing in on some of her courage, and said off-handedly, "What exactly do you mean by Threatened?"

Incensed by her casual tone, Astoria snapped angrily, "It's a stage wherein you will be targeted upon by every Slytherin—ranging from small pranks to bodily harm."

"Ah, well—I'd ask to be an Outcast."

Draco scoffed. "It's obvious you would."

"She's a Mudblood; she should be in Threatened."

"But she's a Slytherin Mudblood, Yaxley. She should be given a chance, miniscule as her chance of success is." Riddle said authoritatively. Elizabeth Yaxley shut up immediately. "Any suggestions for her challenge?"

"Make her gain a Gryffindor's trust, and then break his heart."

"How…_primeval_, Pansy. Couldn't you come up with something better?"

"Ask one person to judge her, via a date or something. Leave that decision upon that person." Draco drawled, looking supremely uninterested.

"Excellent idea. Why don't you go, Draco?"

Draco blinked before demanding angrily, "Why me?"

"It was your idea." Riddle reminded with a smirk when Draco scowled and loosened his tie as if it was suffocating him.

Before Pansy could make some asinine comment, he growled, "Pansy, shut up. I'll do it. How bad could it be?"

Rearing in some of her so-called self preservation instincts, Aria opted to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to prolong the sojourn anymore than necessary. Draco… She'd never spoken to Draco before, but she knew he was a Death Eater. And that he regretted it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

"Well then, it is decided. The Muggleborn, Fitz, has to come up with a way out of the castle on a school day, and has to take Malfoy on a date. Once it is over, Draco will decide her fate, and his decision will be final. All of you are requested not to try to influence Draco in any way. That is all."

Instantly, all of them jumped to their feet and started walking around. Dimly, Aria noticed the younger students finally stepping out of their dormitories, looking as if they had been forced inside hurriedly by their superiors. She blinked when she noticed Astoria glaring at her hatefully, before stalking into the dormitory, followed by Elizabeth Yaxley, Mary Vaughn, Desiree and Delilah Beaumont. Her dorm mates.

_What an eventful first day_, she thought, rubbing her eyes tiredly, before exiting the Common Room to go find some dinner.

**A/N: To all my reviewers, YOU"RE AMAZING PEOPLE! DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU OTHERWISE. I LOVE YOU. (Pat style.) **

**Please do REVIEW this chapter too, and tell me what you thought about it, especially Riddle. That is all. Thank you. **


	5. Chapter 5

Halloween morning began normally enough, which should've signalled to Harry just how bad things were going to become.

He got up leisurely, shook Neville and Ron awake before fighting with Dean over bathroom rights. Once he had won the modified version of the Quidditch hand game, Harry quickly conducted his 'business', shook Ron again when he failed to wake up the first time round, nodded to Seamus solemnly, and then winked, raising a finger on his lips to warn the boy. Seamus closed his open mouth immediately as Harry crept towards Ron again.

Water cascaded on Ron's head after a quick murmur of '_Aguamenti'_.

"Bloody hell, mate!" Ron jerked awake, red hair plastered to his forehead. "What did you do that for?"

"It's Halloween, Ron." Harry reminded.

Ron rubbed his forehead sheepishly. "Blimey, I'd completely forgotten. What's the score now?"

"Six-One."

"You mean I woke you up like this only once?"

"You have the memory skills of a rat, Ronald." Seamus said cheerfully, getting up from his bed and yawning. Ron rounded on him instantly.

"Couldn't you have made a warning sound? And how do you know that a rat has poor memory skills anyway?"

Seamus scoffed. "I've never warned you before; what made you think I would start now?" he replied, completely ignoring Ron's second question as he walked into the vacant bathroom as Dean stepped out.

Ron grumbled underneath his breath, but got out of bed quickly enough. He raised his arms to yawn loudly as he stretched. "Reckon we'll get a reprieve from classes today?"

"Mate, we've _never_, ever gotten a reprieve from classes. You know how McGonagall is."

"You just broke my fragile heart, Potter."

Harry snorted at that, stumbling across his bed to pick up the purple socks lying in the corner. He pulled them on carelessly, running a hand through his already messy hair. Ron groaned and rubbed his eyes unhelpfully. "Seen my shoes anywhere?"

"They're in your trunk." Neville said helpfully. "You pushed them in last night after Quidditch try-outs."

"Oh, bloody hell. Quidditch try-outs. I completely forgot to make the list."

"Just pass the particulars on by mouth. The Quidditch-crazy lot of our House will ensure that everyone finds out by breakfast."

"Well then. You're Keeper; Ginny, Demelza, Natalie are Chasers, Peake and Ritchie are Beaters."

"Who's Seeker?" Neville asked stupidly.

Harry, Ron and Dean stared at him incredulously before he realized his mistake. "R-right. You, of course." He stuttered, face reddening rapidly.

Dean laughed loudly. "That's just as bad as forgetting that United wins all matches!"

"What?"

"Never mind, Weasley."

"I still don't get why you're so obsessed with that ridiculous sport." Ron said, finally clueing into what he was talking about when Harry glanced at the football posters on the wall. "They don't even _fly_."

"Muggle's can't fly, Ron."

"But they do sometimes—in that aezoplace thing."

"Aeroplane." Dean corrected patiently. "You have your kinks, I have mine."

"Yeah, but yours are bloody weird."

Harry got up from the bed and picked up his rucksack. "You coming down, mate?"

"Gimme a second."

They walked down to the Great Hall together, laughing over some inane joke—the one about the hag and the glass of wine. Ron followed when Harry made a straight beeline towards Aria, who stood at the edge of the Gryffindor table with a confused face.

"Am I really allowed to sit here for breakfast?" she asked, upon seeing the two of them approach.

"I reckon it'll be fine. Hermione's Head Girl, and since she hasn't said anything about it yet, I'm sure you're allowed."

Relief dawned on her face as she broke into a toothy grin. "Thanks a ton, I didn't want to go sit there with that lot."

The three of them as one turned to look at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was banging his glass on the table as he shouted something, while Riddle twirled his wand in his hand in a decidedly bored fashion. Next to him, Greengrass primly ate her food, swallowing dainty bites while whispering something in a continuous monotone to Lestrange, who nodded in intervals. Yaxley was checking her face in a hand-mirror propped up by Vaughn, and Parkinson was laughing in a screechy voice. Suddenly, Riddle looked up and met their eyes.

Aria turned red, mumbling something incoherent while looking away. Harry, too, turned to look at her as Ron looked confused.

"C'mon, let's have breakfast," she muttered, quickly depositing her bag on the bench. Not looking up at all, she busied herself in pouring a glass of pumpkin juice and piled some toast on her plate.

Ron shrugged and collapsed next to Harry, who had taken a seat next to her. Nervously, he cleared his throat. "Eh, Aria—I needed to talk to you about something."

She looked up briefly, before nodding and picking up a piece of bacon. "Go on, Harry."

"Well—actually, my dad wrote to me yesterday—he told me about your—"

"Probation?"

Harry scratched his neck. "That's about right."

"And?"

"And uhm—I wanted to let you know—if you need any help at all, I'm there." He finished a bit lamely, jerking in surprise when she positively beamed at him.

"You're bloody brilliant, you know. And I'm not angry; you can relax. "

"Thank you?"

She laughed a little, and turned back to her breakfast even as a flock of owls descended into the Hall, swooping towards their respective owners. A handsome, tawny one made its way towards Harry, who held out his hand to take the Prophet in its beak. When he tried to take the letter attached to it, the owl jerked back and hooted threateningly, before hopping in front of Aria, who raised one eyebrow.

"I think it's for you."

"Your dad?"

Harry shrugged, not really interested as he rolled open the Prophet. Next to Aria, Hermione dropped in with Amy, murmuring a quick greeting before burying her nose in a book, as usual.

"Mind lending me the Prophet once you're done, Potter?" Amy called out.

Harry nodded absently, noting that Aria had opened the letter, and was now peering into its contents with a frown. Her face paled as she reached towards the end. "Is there—is there anything unusual in the Prophet, Harry?"

"I usually begin with the Sports Section," he said apologetically, flipping the pages to the ahead "Do you want it?"

"Could you read the front page out loud?"

Frowning at the unusual request, he nodded before opening the front page.

_Ministry in Uproar over Unusual Request_

_Yesterday evening, the Minister of Magic was presented with a 'surprise' in the Annual Wizard's Protection and Welfare Meeting, an initiative wherein all influential people gather to talk about ways to promote the Wizarding World. Caitlin Avery, successful Unspeakable and her husband, Bardaroy demanded that the Ministry create distinctions between Muggleborns and Purebloods, ensuring that pureblood supremacy is recognized and promoted amongst all Wizards. She presented a list, signed by mostly all Pureblood Houses, like Malfoy, Lestrange, Greengrass, Rosier, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, Nott, Zabini, Black, Beaumont, Vaughn, Yaxley, Thurkell and various others. She stated quite firmly that all employers and the Ministry, alike, should be able to distinguish between the two, so that appropriate job offers can be handed out, and thus, all Muggleborns should be registered separately with fewer privileges, amongst which is prohibition against Apparition._

_Caitlin also said that theirs would be a political movement, and requested the Minster to see it their way, before the enraged Purebloods become offended at the constant slight against their supremacy and boycott the Ministry of Magic. Bardaroy warned that the Wizarding World was slowly going to rot with the constant deprecation of Wizardry values by the coming in of Muggleborns. Also, he hinted that if the Minister refused, physical action would be taken and the world might be dividing, ushering everyone into the brink of a Wizarding War._

_Dumbledore remained unavailable for comment. For further information, see pages 2, 3 and 4._

"Give me the paper." Aria all but snatched, tearing a few pages out of Harry's hand as he hung onto it limply, face frowning angrily. She quickly began flipping the pages, constantly muttering to herself under her breath and glancing at the Slytherin table now and then.

"What do they mean by that?" Ron asked, finally breaking the hush that had descended upon the table.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione replied scathingly, book all but forgotten in front of her. "The Slytherin's aren't happy with only terrorizing us Mudbloods in school; they now want it to extend in all spheres of life."

"But that's bloody ridiculous! Dumbledore will never agree to this!"

"You never know," she said gravely, "they're all a powerful bunch. In fact, it's quite a smart move, going against the Ministry politically first. This way, they can pretend to be the good guys, who're working for a better future, but are deterred by a stubborn Minister."

"Dumbledore's the best wizard there is." Neville chimed in suddenly. "Everyone should know that."

"Well, yes, but that's not how an organization like the Ministry works. If they boycott the Ministry, Dumbledore will be backed into the corner."

"My parents won't support this." Harry said thoughtfully, "And I'm quite sure there are a few other so-called 'purebloods' that won't. There's Shacklebolt, Crouch, Weasley, McKinnon, MacDonald, to name a few."

"You're right; Dad would never agree. And Percy works in the Ministry too, he's refuse to be a part of this, not mentioning all other half-bloods and Muggleborns."

"You don't get it, Ron." Hermione said, shaking her head. "The most important posts are occupied by the influential people."

"So? Doesn't the Ministry work as a Democracy too?" Dean asked, ignoring Ron's frown.

"Well, not exactly. Obviously the Minister's word is law, but as a whole, it's a system. The Minister has underlings who support and advice him, but that doesn't mean he can quiet something like this easily."

Seamus groaned. "Bloody awful, these people are. Must they act as if it matters what sort of blood flows through a person's veins? Take Hermione, she can beat three of those pure-blooded gits with her hands tied."

Hermione turned pink. "You're right, but these bigoted idiots refuse to understand that." Amy replied, patting Hermione on the back soothingly.

"Reckon we can do something to influence the Minister's decision? Send a postcard?" Ron murmured, staring dejectedly at his food.

Hermione jerked up suddenly. "That's brilliant, Ron! Of course, we'll write a petition, and get it signed by all Houses apart from Slytherin."

Ron was the one flushing this time, looking away uncomfortably before clearing his throat. "What's a petition?"

"Never mind," Hermione said dismissively, closing her eyes and thinking about something as she tallied some numbers on her fingers. "It just might work if enough of us show that the movement is ridiculous, and that the purebloods aren't backed by many supporters."

Harry turned to Aria, who was suspiciously quiet, looking as if she was miles away from the conversation. "Hey, you alright? You can relax. My parents and Dumbledore, along with the rest won't let something like this happen."

She shook her head empathetically. "No, something's not adding up. Why now, out of all times?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that the purebloods had ample opportunity to do something like this before. Why has their tolerance snapped now? What trump card do they have?" Her eyes flickered to the Slytherin table thoughtfully.

"Blimey, you're right. I didn't even think of it like that." Harry frowned. "It must be something huge."

"Or someone huge."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. I'll see you in a few, yeah? I have Arithmancy now."

Harry nodded. "Sure, see you around."

* * *

Aria stumbled past her lessons with a careless attitude and an even more careless disposition. Whispers were rife amongst the corridors, amongst the students and even the teachers, who clammed up instantly upon seeing the students pass by, trying to pretend as if everything was all right. But nothing was right. Aria didn't go through the nausea of going back in time and killing the Dark Lord just to come back and have another Dark Age in front of her. She had slipped up plenty of times, but she had tried to adjust into this world, tried to like it, and surprisingly, had somehow become fond of it in the three days that she was there. Sure, the Slytherin's were all prats, but the Gryffindor's were amazingly welcoming, though she hazarded that such a situation was all due to James Potter and his awesome-ness. But for the first time, she had felt like she had belonged somewhere, even if her status as an honouree Gryffindor made people stare upon seeing her green tie.

Aria rubbed her head hard as she thought. Where could she have slipped up? She had frequented the library, which said that after the death of Grindelwald, there had been no uprisings. James Potter himself had confirmed that in his letter, before asking her to check the Prophet, and remarking if she was a Seer. So why now, out of all times? The Purebloods could have waited till the next 50 years to launch the same movement. What sort of proof or holding call did they have now on the Ministry of Magic? Hermione's theory was sound, but then again. WHY NOW?

That was what confused her. She had snuck various glances at Riddle, wondering if he was the trump. But as far as she remembered, there had been a waiting period of around ten years after Hogwarts was over before which V-Voldemort had announced his reign.

She needed to talk to Dumbledore, and she needed to do that fast.

Aria rushed back to her dorm after her lessons, ignoring the jeers of the Slytherin's in the Common Room, relaxing only when she was on her bed. Sure, Riddle has warned them to lie off until her so-called initiation, but you never knew who might suddenly rebel if provoked enough. And it wasn't as if she didn't do any provoking, she thought guiltily, remembering how she had stood her ground and insulted an upstart fifth year, who looked as if he wanted to curse her, before suddenly stiffening on seeing Riddle's approaching figure.

Riddle, yet another anomaly. Was he the good guy, or the bad one? Was he just pretending to be unaffected by the recent announcement, or was he just biding his time to sign up in the Pureblood Army against Muggleborns?

But he had done some surprisingly good things in this world. She had finally found out how Riddle had risen to the top of the Hierarchy in Slytherin despite being having such a surname.

He had shown the world that he was the Heir of Slytherin by opening the Chamber of Secrets and giving over the basilisk to the authorities with a sly smile. He was barely a school student, but he already held an Order of Merlin, Second Class, for heaven's sake.

Aria remembered dropping 'Hogwarts: A History' in shock upon reading that, before confirming the news with Ginny and Lauren, who had dutifully told her that Tom had successfully opened the Chamber and informed the Ministry, stating that he wanted the world to know his royal heritage. Since then, Tom had officially held the title of 'Gaunt' in Ministry records. Tom Marvolo Riddle Gaunt. What an absurd name.

Dumbledore himself had given him his Order of Merlin, shaking his hand and congratulating him with the ever-present twinkle in his eye. Aria wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen the photo in some old newspaper clipping Lauren had kept, who had turned red on being inquired why exactly she was keeping such a photo in her underwear drawer.

Aria drummed her fingers on her ankle as she wondered what to do next. James had told her to enjoy her school year like a normal kid, leaving the worrying about the World off her shoulders. He had also begged her to lose the hero-complex, which had made Aria snort. But after all that she had invested into this Universe, could she really just back off like that, magic or no magic?

This also reminded her about another thing that she needed to talk to Dumbledore about. Aria had mostly pushed the 'no-magic' clause to the back of her head, but now, she wanted to know why that had happened, and more importantly, what she could do to change it. Was she a Squib now, or was her magic basically dormant in her?

Dumbledore had said something about 'meeting' Father Time. If that was possible.

Could there really be a chance to do something like that?

* * *

"You're late."

"I know. I was held up."

"That isn't an apology."

Aria sighed before spreading her palms on the mahogany door and pushing it open. "You're the most annoying bloke I've ever met, Riddle."

Riddle let out a small chuckle, before following her into the Trophy Room. Aria walked in and spread her arms around her before twirling a little, ending up with her face towards the trophies. "Ooh, they're filthy."

"I presume you know what to do, then?" Riddle asked, twirling his wand to make a grimy rag and an equally soiled bucket materialize on the floor. On the left corner, a chair and a desk popped into existence, which Riddle set towards immediately.

"You're going to be here while I clean all this?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No—but aren't you missing the feast?" she asked, biting her lower lip contemplatively. Aria did_ not_ want Riddle to see her on her knees, working like a maid. He would probably never let her live it down.

He ran his fingers through his hair before sprawling on the chair as if it was a throne, grey eyes shining brightly in the dim light as he turned to look at her. "I've already eaten."

"But—don't you want to spend time with your—friends?"

"Hardly. You can calm down, you know. I don't bite." Riddle added when she fidgeted yet, still twirling his wand in his hand as he looked up to meet her eyes. His teeth gleamed as the corners of his mouth lifted. "Unless asked to, of course," he all but purred.

Aria gave him a scathing look. "Can't you play nice?"

"I'm always nice."

"Yes, well—"she grumbled, sitting down on the cold floor and pulling a random trophy towards herself, "I beg to differ."

"Beg away, little bird. In fact, if you beg _nicely_, I might even let you off early."

For some reason, the words made Aria turn red, which she tried to hide by bending over the trophy and wiping it with the rag. She peeked at him from lowered eyes, noticing how he bent over his parchment as he wrote something elegantly, before pausing to think thoughtfully and then cutting out some random word. Every now and then, his hair would brush past his smooth forehead, which he would wipe away irritably. Across his clavicle was his knotted tie, which for the first time was hanging open across his chest. He had discarded his robes on the desk, which gave Aria a perfect view of his shirt covered chest and back. And his shirt was very tight.

All of a sudden feeling flustered, she turned back to her trophy, reading out loud, "Harry Potter, Quidditch Trophy, Gryffindor."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Tom pause and turn to look at her, and then rotate his body so that he was facing her. "Another fan of Potter, I see?"

"Harry's an amazing person," she said a bit defensively, polishing the trophy with renewed vigour. "Why can't Filch be the one overseeing my detention? Or Hermione, for that matter?"

Aria could almost feel him look at her exasperatedly. "There's a feast, Filch needs to be present. And Granger wanted to use the time to study."

"You actually acquiesced to her request? You, a Slytherin?"

"She asked nicely enough," Riddle responded with a smirk, "and I'm not going to start explaining my motives to you now, am I?"

Aria let out an unsatisfied sound as she got up to replace the now clean trophy with another one. "I think the only reason you agreed to this was because you wanted to see me on my knees in front of you."

"Someone has a high opinion of themselves."

"Someone needs to go dunk their head in the toilet."

"Must you always be so crude, Aria?"

"Why does it matter?" she asked, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she climbed over a ledge to pick up trophies that were too high for her, "I am what I am. If you don't like it, dear _Heir_, then please go elsewhere."

"I see you've heard of that particular incident." He sounded unbelievably pleased.

"Right." She glanced at him. "Can you really speak Parseltongue?"

Riddle looked at her briefly, before opening his mouth to hiss softly. Despite herself, Aria could feel goosebumps dot her arm as she stood on the ledge, hanging onto a vacant stone so that she would not fall. He always spoke like a very cultivated man, but this time, he sounded almost sensuous as he hissed on and on, making her legs weak. Suddenly, she felt flustered once more.

When he stopped, she looked down in an effort to calm her heart, before speaking in a shaky voice, "That must be very useful. Now at least you won't be targeted by Pureblood maniacs even though you have a surname like that."

"Worried about the new changes in the Ministry, are you?"

"It's not only me!" she said loudly, feeling angry that he could speak about such an incident so calmly. "Look at Hermione, for that matter. She's the best witch Hogwarts has ever seen, and because of these stupid, bigoted idiots, she might be forced to sit in the sidelines!" Her hands let go of the ledge, and she landed on the floor with a loud thump as she turned to face Riddle, who looked on with an impassive face. "Even you can't argue with the fact that she's much, much better than any of your pure-blooded bimbos! She can take five of them together, blindfolded. What sort of fool would want to waste such a talent that could bring about so many positive changes just because she was born a _Mudblood_?"

Riddle stared at her for a few seconds, his wand clasped loosely in his right hand and his legs stretched out in front of him as he nodded. "You're right. One would have to be a fool."

"W-what?"

He got up leisurely, taking his time to stride in front of her so that he towered above her as he spoke, "I wouldn't allow such a talent to go to waste. I wouldn't even allow sidelining of a particular individual unless they have nothing to offer. Even you, in some miniscule way, have some existence in this society. Granger is a Mudblood, no doubt, but she's also one of the best witches I've seen, and if it were up to me, none of this would be happening."

Aria stepped back unsteadily, her heart hammering loudly in her chest as she bit her lower lip and shook her head. "You're lying. Why would you—descendent of Slytherin—he hated Muggleborns—you have to be lying. You're trying to fool me for some stupid reason and me— I'm not going to fall for it. I don't look at you with rose-colored glasses, Riddle. Never have, and never will."

He laughed suddenly, his sides shaking with mirth as he bent over in an effort to control himself. The room echoed with the force of his chuckles, which seemed to subside after ages.

"You're really something else, aren't you?" He gasped out, raising his hand so that his fingers now rested on the ledge next to her head. He regarded her with a slightly inclined look on his face, before shaking himself and moving forward, effectively trapping her. His other hand grasped the stone wall on the other side of her head with a damning finality. "Why would I lie to you, little bird?" he whispered softly, making Aria widen her eyes as she tried to step back, only to meet the stone-cold wall on her back. "How stupid would one be to waste talent? I'm definitely not stupid. Granger would be a more useful ally than foe; surely even you can understand that."

Aria shook slightly, before raising her neck calmly to look him in the eye. "What do you want with Hermione?"

"I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else, Aria. I'm not Grindelwald; I don't _seek_ to be Grindelwald. All I want to do is to become the most powerful wizard the world has ever seen. I want to transcend the boundaries of magic, to break apart barriers that hold us people back. The Dark Arts, Miss Fitz, are something to be revered and respected, not shunned and destroyed."

"An ambitious motto."

He shrugged humbly. "I seek to be the best, to be much better than that old fool Dumbledore, with his ridiculous ideas of love conquering all."

Aria narrowed her eyes at him. "You're vile. Don't you love your girlfriend?"

"Astoria? She is a nice distraction—a delectable one, no doubt. But no, I'm afraid I don't believe in love."

"Which is why you'll never be as great as Dumbledore is. Because you have never known love!" she punctuated each word with a poke on his (hard, hard, oh-so-hard) chest. _Focus, Aria_, she chided herself._ He's actually opening up to you, for some inane reason._

He chuckled slightly, hair falling on his face as he shook his head. "But I have known love, little bird. My mother loves me. My father loves me. Even my little girlfriend fancies herself to be in love with me—"he smirked, eyes staring at her with a predatory look in them, "—as do half the girls of this school."

So he did have parents who loved him in this world. Did this make all the difference as Dumbledore said it might?

She snorted, crossing her arms on her chest as she gave him an exasperated look. "So you're telling me that all you want to do is study magic and be a great wizard? Nothing else? No random delusions of grandeur? No other high aims like conquering the world via your tremendous knowledge of the Arts?"

"You think rather lowly of me."

"With due reason!" she argued back, annoyed with the half-lidded look he was sending her way. "You act as if you own the school, I'm sure that you do indulge in some questionable habits like the Unforgivables behind closed doors."

His mouth turned up as he grinned condescendingly. "What do you think this is, the Dark Ages?"

"Really?" she asked softly, ignoring his previous words. "Are you really normal… this time round?"

Horrified with herself, Aria clasped her mouth with both hands, stunned with what she had just revealed. How could she be so stupid? Even if he wasn't suspicious then, he was bound to be now. How could she—

"This time round?" he repeated softly, eyes suddenly glinting dangerously as he looked at her with alert eyes. "What do you mean by 'this time round', Aria?"

Still stunned, she could feel her eyes brim over with tears. She looked down at her feet, feeling insanely wretched.

"Look at me while I talk to you!"

Aria's eyes snapped up as he growled at her, his voice sending shivers down her back. He looked furious. "You can't just say things like that and then offer no explanation. Tell me what you mean by that!" he demanded.

"I—I can't."

"Why, in the name of Merlin, can't you?"

"Because you might not like the answer."

That shut him up for a few moments, making Aria squirm uncomfortably as he stared at her with a blank look on his face. "Look, Riddle, it's not that I don't want to tell you—I think—it's just that what I know for the moment is classified information, and I know after hearing all this that you just spoke of, that it doesn't pertain to you any longer. You're not what I thought you were." Hesitantly, she looked up at him. "And I apologize."

"Are you a Seer then?"

"Something like that, I suppose. I heard a prophecy accidentally, but obviously it doesn't seem to be about you." Making up things as you go wasn't a very good thing, but she genuinely believed that he wasn't Lord Voldemort anymore.

Or it just might be the hormones talking.

He was quiet for a few more minutes, before he cocked his head to the right, regarding her through half-closed eyes. "What was the prophecy about?"

"It was about a man who wanted to conquer the world."

"Does he succeed?"

"Not really. Well, actually, I don't know. I didn't quite stick around till the end."

"I see. I accept your apology, then."

She nodded, extending her arm to him in memory of an incident that took place when she had first arrived. "Aria Fitz, pleased to meet you."

He clasped her fingers in his own long ones, never once breaking eye-contact. "Tom Riddle, likewise. You're a liar."

She let out a small laugh at that. "Some part of it was true."

"The question is how much really was?"

"Look, Riddle, Tom, whatever you like to be called—"

"Tom would be fine." He interrupted smoothly.

"—Right. Tom. I wasn't lying when I said it was classified."

"It's also the reason you have that absurdly ugly probationary bracelet on your wrist, isn't it?"

Aria couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face as she placed her hands on his chest to push him back. Abruptly, at the contact, something in the atmosphere shifted. His eyes suddenly took on another look as he stepped back.

She cleared her throat nervously. "You're too smart for your own good."

"I'm a lot of things, but a fool isn't one of them."

"Don't force me to tell you, please. Because I really can't. I would be breaking a hundred different rules."

The look was still present in his eyes as he stepped forward once more, encroaching on her personal bubble with his shockingly divine scent. A dark expression stole over his face. "Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

Her heart slammed against her ribs in one solid movement at the sound of his voice. Suddenly, he began hissing once more, his voice unbelievably soothing, and dare she say it, _arousing_.

"D-Don't. You have a girlfriend."

Before he could say something, she jumped. "Would you look at the time? I have a detention to partake in." Quickly, she stepped past him to pick up the forgotten rag on the floor. She rushed to the trophies, not looking back even once.

"_Scourgify_."

Aria stared at the glistening trophies on the rack before turning around slowly to face Riddle. He stood ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back. "You're dismissed."

"B-But—"

In the dim light, she could almost mistake him for a Greek God. Albeit, an angry Greek God. "Go." He ordered.

Aria slammed the door behind her angrily as she stomped out.

* * *

The Halloween Feast was long over, and Aria didn't meet many people as she walked furiously to the Slytherin Common Room. The nerve of that Riddle, dismissing her like she was some pet for his enjoyment! She must be stupid, stupid, so very stupid to believe the lies he spouted from that silver-tongue of his, in that deep voice which brought about shivers in places she hadn't even noticed before then! Then again, he hadn't exactly cursed her when she had refused to give him any information. He was a smart bloke; surely it was grating on his nerves because he didn't know?  
Maybe he thought he could seduce it out of her by being charming and attractive?

She exhaled noisily, running her fingers through her hair furiously, tearing a few strands out as she muttered the password angrily and stomped into her dorm. On a single look, she could see that not many people dotted the uncomfortable chairs and couches in the circular arena; most were probably fast asleep. How long had she been in detention?

Aria pushed apart the curtains surrounding her bed as she collapsed upon it, getting up lethargically only to draw them around her once more. She could hear vague whispering coming from Delilah's bed, but she ignored it. It wasn't as if any of them, Elizabeth, Mary, Delilah, Desiree or most of all, Astoria wanted her company. According to them, she wasn't fit to scrape the bottom of their shoes. This was absurd because those idiots didn't deserve to have shoes anyway. People who tormented others just because they weren't born into a fancy name were despicable, she thought furiously, picking up a piece of parchment to get started on her History of Magic homework.

_Grieg, the Ugly was a prejudiced leader, who believed in the superiority of his family only_—did Riddle believe that too? Or was he just lying in the Trophy Room?—_The First Goblin War started as an attempt by Grieg to ensure that all the Salamandars were given proper respect, and ironically, wanted to be stopped to be referred to as The Ugly_—Well, Riddle didn't have any problem in that department. No one in their right mind would call him ugly—_The Goblins believed that Grieg was setting a bad precedent on their future generation and_—Oh. Fuck this. She couldn't concentrate at all.

Aria scowled at the parchment, as if it was the cause of all her worries. No. Her worry was Riddle, the prejudiced Slytherin lot, and the trump card the purebloods had over Dumbledore.

Her eyes automatically went to her bracelet, which hung upon her wrist like a dead weight. With a grave expression, she pondered over how life was without magic. It had, technically been only three days since she had lost it, and thus, it hadn't affected her much, but it hurt not being able to grasp her wand for comfort, or to swing it about in an effort to master an incantation. Once, locating objects was a simple '_Accio'_, but now, she had to rummage under her bed, in her trunk and often, on the floor of the room. None of the girls in her dorm bothered her much, and so far, nobody had commented on the fact that she was often without her wand.

But it was a matter of time before it was public news, and then she'd be ripe fruit for plucking.

How would it feel, knowing that the girl who sat across you was on probation, which often meant that the crime she committed was as bad as to warrant a single one-way trip to Azkaban?

She knew the answer of course. It would feel very, very bad.

The Gryffindor's would still accept her, because Harry's dad, an Auror had vouched for her, but the rest of the Houses?

Well, fuck them; it wasn't as if they were very friendly anyway.

"Oh my god!" Delilah simpered suddenly, making Aria jump. "You didn't, did you?"

Someone giggled unabashedly, as a figure made their way across the room. Aria could hear the heels clacking on the floor. Whoever it was, they were making a lot of noise. Through her curtains, she couldn't exactly see who it was, so she leant forward, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

"Well, if you did, I'd say—it's about time." Elizabeth said loudly, making the figure jump.

"We didn't." Aria was quite unable to place the giddy voice, unfortunately.

"Then why is your top button open?"

There were sounds of fumbling, and a bed creaked as someone made their way off it.

"Well, tell us! Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"For Merlin's sake, did you or did you not shag Riddle?"

Shocked, Aria fell back upon the bed with a soft oomph, completely missing Astoria's reply as her roommates interrogated her. But wasn't Riddle with her the whole time? Or did he do it after she had left? After all that had transpired between them, he went back to do this?

She clenched her fists and forced herself to listen as betrayal washed through her. But why was she feeling betrayed?

"I want all the details!" Desiree squealed loudly, jumping on the bed.

"Well, fine, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Is that clear?"

"Merlin, Astoria, relax. Not a word goes out of this room." Elizabeth drawled.

"Yes, you can count on us, Astoria." Mary said timidly. Aria could almost picture her shy face.

"Okay. So, he suddenly barged into the Common Room and dragged me outside. Before I could even say anything, he—he snogged me. And Merlin, what a snog it was!"

"That's it? That's all that happened?"

"Heavens, no! He then began—well—he ran his hands all over me like a madman, and I—"

Aria couldn't bear to listen anymore. Quietly, she fell back on her bed, trying to drown the noises coming from across the room. She grabbed her pillow and propped herself on it as she thought, and thought, and thought.

Everything she felt in Riddle's presence pointed to only one thing—she had a crush on him. Three bloody days and she already fell for him. And it was big, if she was getting worked up over Astoria…doing the dirty? Being a Slag? Shagging him? Did they even shag? Riddle wouldn't do it in the corridor, would he?

Bad mental images.

With a soft groan, she flipped the pillow and buried her face into it, trying to drown out the voices, her thoughts, her worries, her speculations. Her ears rang with hissing even as she slept.

* * *

Hermione Granger was patrolling. It was, unfortunately, her day to do that, and she was, equally unfortunately, stuck with an overtly talkative McLaggen.

"Did I tell you about the time I single-handedly helped win a match we played during the summers?"

Hermione ignored him, increasing her footsteps as she heard voices across the corridor. It was bad enough that the news today had distracted her to bits, and now she was stuck with this idiot who just wouldn't shut up.

She held up a hand when McLaggen opened his mouth once more, signalling at him to remain quiet as she tiptoed across the corner, hiding herself behind a suit of armour. When McLaggen stared at her with an open mouth, she rolled her eyes and stupefied him; this would ensure that he did not alert the intruders to their presence.

A well cultivated voice reached her ears, and unconsciously, she grasped her wand tightly. _Malfoy_.

"I have no bloody idea how they started all this without us even having an inkling of this. I mean, look at this letter." He brandished a parchment towards Crabbe and Goyle, who nodded stupidly. "I mean, I ask him about today's news, and what does he say? 'Careful, Draco. Owls can be intercepted'. What does he think I am? A child? I know that obviously, which was why I asked him to meet me in Hogsmeade. But he completely ignored that part!"

Crabbe cleared his throat, possibly choosing what words to say from that limited vocabulary of his. And this was what the purebloods sought to promote? Hermione felt like laughing.

"My father did not say much either."

Draco scoffed, and said what suspiciously sounded like, 'No shit, Sherlock'. Hermione frowned. But Sherlock Holmes was a Muggle, wasn't he?

"Draco, we'll find out soon enough." Goyle muttered, scratching his big head as she shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"But I want to know now! What could be so bad that father would refuse to tell me?"

"Maybe he was afraid for your safety?"

"Goyle, please. Stop thinking. Obviously it's hurting your brain bad enough that you're resorting to making such asinine comments. I can take care of myself, and father knows that. I'm the best, besides that stupid Mudblood and Riddle."

Hermione bristled at the comment, wondering if now was the time to jump out of her hiding place and dock a few points. She then glanced at Cormac's unmoving body. What if Draco decided to attack her? She could hold herself against him easily enough, but wouldn't she be endangering McLaggen?

"What about the other Mudblood? The one you're going on a date with?"

Hermione's ears perked up.

"First off, it's not a date. It's something I'm being forced to do because Riddle's feeling unusually sadistic, and secondly, don't talk to me about it. It's bad enough that Pansy just won't shut up. I mean, what does she think I'm going to do? Shag the Mudblood?"

Crabbe and Goyle made suitable sounds of assent as Malfoy continued. "I mean, have you seen her? Whatever she has is hidden beneath all those hideously baggy robes, and she's obviously taken with Saint Potter. Bloody hell, how did the Hat sort her in Slytherin anyway? And Riddle! He absolutely refuses to let us show the Mudblood her place. It's driving Astoria crazy, I can tell you that much. She's always been a jealous harpy whenever Riddle was concerned."

Just like that, Hermione knew who they were talking about. But why would Aria go on a date with Draco because Riddle told her to? What exactly was going on in Slytherin House?

"Come on, let's get out of here. That bushy haired monster is patrolling here tonight. You don't want her to dock points, do you?" Draco said snidely, pushing himself off the wall he was lounging on to walk away in a direction opposite to that of Hermione's. She longed to stop him, rub him off the wrong way and then dock some points, but if it wasn't for McLaggen.

Once she was sure they had left, she walked over to the still-prone boy. "_Ennervate_."

He came to groggily. "What happened?"

"You collapsed randomly." Hermione said bossily, glaring at him when he tried to take her hand for support. "Obviously you haven't been having enough rest. C'mon, let's get you to the Hospital Wing."

Just like that, he believed her as she threw her nose in the air primly and ignored his presence for the rest of the way, still mulling over Malfoy's words.

* * *

_Dear James,_

_Thank you for your very informative letter. No, in my world, quite a few of them did not exist, so you can imagine my confusion. And no, I'm not a ruddy Seer. Can you picture me in a peacock-feathered shawl?_

_Forgive me for being short, but I'm just so tired—I had detention today; I'm sure you're quite proud—So I'm not going to make this long._

_I need to see Dumbledore. Could you please pass on the message as soon as possible?_

_Yours,_

_Aria._

Aria tied up the parchment into a roll and fixed it onto an owl, leaning against the window as she watched it soar across the sky. It was early, far too early for normal people to be awake, but truth be told, she hadn't quite slept at all. In fact, all she had done was toss and turn and mumble incoherent sentences. That one state when your mind feels like it's sleeping but you know somehow that your body is in limbo was what had plagued her the entire night.

Also, she couldn't quite control the urge to pommel Astoria as she slept peacefully, unaware of her bloodthirsty thoughts. Aria rubbed her forehead instinctively as she snarled at the idea of Riddle. It was absurd, stupid, and even primal on some level for her to feel jealous, but ultimately, the heart wants what the heart wants, yeah?

Even if the heart wants something that was totally off the market, and would be for time immemorial. So Riddle didn't love Astoria. But as he said, she was delectable and Aria herself wasn't, so it was easy to see who would win. She had no stupid delusions of grandeur, after all. Looking at the sleeping Astoria had made her stumble into the bathroom to check her reflection, the darkened area under her eyes, and how long was it exactly since she had shaved her legs and arms?

So, despite the fact she ridiculed herself for it, she had shaved, begged Madam Pomfrey for a pepper up, and had lost the baggy robes. She had even covered the metallic bracelet with an actual bracelet of her own that James had bought for her.

Now, clad in her school-girl socks, blue jeans, and white shirt, coupled with the green tie, Aria had walked into the Great Hall calmly, ignoring the curious looks being sent her way. She made a straight beeline towards the Gryffindor table, where Ginny nodded at her before turning back to her breakfast.

"Ginnnnny!"

The red-head glanced at her before shaking her head. "Oh no, whatever you want, I'm not doing it."

"But it's important!"

"I don't care."

"Honestly, all you need to do is hand me your Herbology homework. Please?"

"Nope." The sixth-year replied, drawing out the 'p' with a pout.

"Dylan? Lauren? What about you guys?"

Dylan snorted. "No can do, honey. This's the first paper I've completed myself, and I'm going to treasure it with my life."

"You copied the last paragraph off me, Dylan." Lauren reminded, rummaging through her bag. "Here you go, Aria. Remember, I'm the nice one!"

Aria grabbed the parchment gratefully. "Of course I remember. You're the princess, the Queen amongst these peasants!"

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't we?" Ginny said sarcastically, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice before turning to look at Aria. "You've done something to yourself. What is it?"

"I think her skirt's become shorter."

"I'm not wearing a skirt at all, Dylan. I just lost the robes."

"Details, details," Dylan waved off, wriggling her fingers in Aria's direction. "Who're you trying to impress anyway?"

"No one." Aria huffed, glaring at the girl before stowing the parchment in her bag.

"Careful with that!"

"Merlin, Laurie, relax. She's not going to eat it, are you Aria?"

"Don't call her Laurie." Ginny said lightly, earning a smack on her shoulder by Lauren.

"Aren't we a cheery bunch?"

"No, I won't eat it!" Aria said indignantly, before turning to look at the food in front of her. "The post here yet?"

"It's six thirty. They're not allowed in till seven."

"I'm dying to look at the Prophet."

"If it helps, so are we. But the wireless didn't report anything interesting last night. I know," Lauren said forcefully, glancing at the other two, "because I didn't ditch my mates for random blokes."

"Dean isn't a random bloke!" Ginny said at the same time Dylan murmured something inconsequential.

"When your brother finds out, you both are dead."

Ginny threw her hair back haughtily. "Well, isn't that nice, because he's not going to find out?"

"You wait, Ginevra. You're going to rue the day you tried to get it on with Dean."

Ginny snorted, not bothering to reply as she drank noisily from her glass. "I'm worried about the news today," Lauren confessed, looking sheepish. "I mean, I know, being a pureblood and all, I have options to relax but—"

"You aren't shallow." Aria interrupted, inclining her head as Dylan patted the girl on her back gratefully. "If you ask me, the whole situation is ludicrous. They've been at this nonsense since forever. What makes them think that they can get away with it now?"

"It's probably something big." Dylan mused, looking thoughtful as she brushed her chin worriedly. "I'm not too worried, we have people like Dumbledore on our side after all, but he is getting old…"

"And barmier by the second."

Amen to that."

"He's still pretty awesome." Ginny defended. "I mean, since he's defeated Grindelwald, there have been no other uprisings. Honestly, now that we have Tom on our side—"

Aria jerked. "Tom on our side?"

"Well, he is the Heir of Slytherin. So all he needs to do is to tell these people to back off, yeah? I mean, all Slytherin's basically worship him since he cut off ties with his parents and joined their bandwagon."

"But what makes you think he'll tell them to back off?"

Ginny stared at her as if she'd gone mental. "Well, Aria, I know you think he's a prat and all, but Riddle isn't a bad guy. Far from it. He even once told Hermione that he has no issues with her blood, but he plays along because he doesn't want a ruddy rebellion."

Aria stared at her in shock. "No—No. That's not who he is. He's just trying to get us to have our guard down—I mean, he's Heir of Slytherin for heaven's sake!"

Lauren played the peacemaker. "Look, Aria, you've joined just three days ago. We've been with Riddle for the past six years. In fact, if he hated Mudbloods, he could've set his basilisk on them pretty easily. Instead, he handed it over to the Ministry because he knew it wasn't right to kill people."

Aria backed off. She was fighting a losing battle, and she knew it. In fact, Riddle even had her convinced last night, and how well did she know him? She knew his exact past profile. She knew what he would become, but that hadn't stopped her from getting cozy with him, or even fancying him, did it?

"Well, you may be right," she mumbled, looking up as the owls swooped across the ceiling. "The post's here."

An owl stopped in front of Ginny, who rolled the Prophet off it quickly, peering through the pages before shaking her head. "There's nothing in this; I think the Ministry's ordered an official black-out."

"But couldn't your dad tell you something?" Aria asked, a tad desperately.

"Not really. They've probably created a taboo on most of the important words, so dad can't really write or tell anyone about it. Only the Minister can break that."

"But why would Dumbledore not want anyone to know?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to frighten the rest of the population?"

"Morning, you all." Harry greeted from behind them, scratching his head as he looked for a seat, before unceremoniously dropping himself next to Ginny. "What does the Prophet say, Gin?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Ginny replied in a frustrated tone. "Reckon Dumbledore's ordered a black-out?"

"Could be." Ron said from a mouthful of bacon, shaking his head when the girls gave him a look of pure disgust. "Relax, will ya? Dumbledore's gonna make everything alright."

"That's easy for you to say, Ronald." Hermione said loudly, dropping herself into the seat next to Aria. "You're a pureblood, aren't you?"

Ron turned red before glaring at the Head Girl. "I'm not shallow, Hermione."

"I know, I know," Hermione said dismally, rubbing her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm just so tensed. I was awake the whole of last night, thinking about the situation. Would you believe it, none of the Slytherin's know about this either?"

She then proceeded to tell them how she had caught Malfoy mouthing off against his father last night. As she concluded, she passed a meaningful look towards Aria who raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"So the git doesn't know much either? That's good to know." Ron said darkly, staring the Slytherin table angrily. "Or not so good. Maybe Hermione could've forced the information out of him; she knows a lot of spells."

Hermione sputtered into her pumpkin juice as Ron realized what he had said and turned pink. "I mean—"he added gruffly, "She's smart and stuff, y'know. I mean, you're smart and stuff—never mind, yeah?"

Hermione nodded, ears tinged pink. Aria glanced at her in amusement before turning to Ron. "I believe Lavender's making her way to you right now."

He jerked, dropping his toast before diving under the table so that he was huddled next to Hermione.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"Hiding."

"But why?"

"Please, someone, save me! I can't bear her any longer!"

"Finally heard her open her mouth, yeah?" Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes before tapping her wand on his head. "Stay quiet."

"Where's Ron?" Lavender breathed out in a high-pitch, looking around furtively.

"He just left."

"Yeah, he went—"

"—to the loo—"

"—no, McGonagall called him—"

"—actually, he forgot his bag upstairs—"

"—he's not here." Aria concluded forcefully, glaring at the rest of them until they shut up. Mercifully, they did.

"But I swear I just saw him here!"

"Yeah, he left just about now."

Harry nodded. "Why don't you check upstairs?"

Lavender looked at them suspiciously, before nodding and walking towards the other end of the table. "I'll wait for him here. Tell him to see me as soon as possible! Hey Parvati!"

"Blimey, she'll never let me get away now!" Ron groaned, banging his head against the table as he shifted his position slightly. "Ouch!"

Hermione sighed. "Look, come with me, alright? I cast a pretty powerful disillusionment charm on you. I'll take it off as soon as we're out of here."

Ron nodded, or seemed to nod, from what Aria could tell. Hermione got up from the bench, but not before looking meaningfully at her once more.

"Why's Hermione looking at you like that?" Ginny whispered once the Head Girl had left.

Aria looked at her retreating back thoughtfully. "You know, I actually have no bloody idea."

* * *

**A/N: Aaaaaaaaand this is huge. 22 whole pages.. I got my first flame on tempting love btw. laughed a lot, since I had already abandoned the story. I'm evil.**

**. On a more brighter note, REVIEWERS, you made my day. Reviews were the only reason that made my get off my arse and publish this monstrosity way before than I had planned to.**

**So you know what to do, yeah?**

**Because I swear, the more you review, the more I feel like writing. So please, please, pretty please review and tell me that Aria has regained her spunk(?) maybe, and that Hermione is awesome, and Draco is in character, and Riddle gives you shivers. Tell me that and you gain a cookie. *winks***

**Really. I'm not joking. Review, cuz sometimes, I feel that this story isn't any better than my other one too. And that's not a nice feeling, people. :( **


	6. Chapter 6

Potions had to be the worst class she had ever attended. Well, History of Magic was a close second, but at least she could put her head on the desk and promptly fall asleep, because Binns probably didn't even know that she existed. Aria was indeterminably grateful to McGonagall for that, since she hadn't bothered to announce to the school that there was a new girl amidst their ranks. Most people thought that she was merely an unheard of Slytherin. But now that she was mates with the Gryffindor's, she was all too conspicuous, unfortunately.

"Ah, Tom, Astoria. Excellent, excellent potion. Is that a sprig of rosemary I detect, my boy?"

"Yes, Professor. I thought it would make a suitable addition."

Scowling, Aria turned back to her own cauldron, which was emitting such toxic fumes, that it would've made Neville proud. She _had_ actually tried to make her potion a success, but there was just so much on her mind. Aria sighed loudly, before walking into the stores for some Root of Verona. Maybe that would make her potion seem like a potion and not an attempt to make poison?

She hadn't looked up before entering the store, so she was surprised to see Riddle and Draco inside too, rummaging through some boxes as they whispered to each other hurriedly. Ignoring them, Aria walked over to the pickled jar and hesitantly wrapped a Root in a newspaper she was carrying.

"You look as if you could use some help."

Aria glanced over her shoulder on hearing Riddle's dulcet tones, not bothering to mask her grimace. Draco seemed to have left already.

"If I do, I'll ask Slughorn."

"Back to the same old, enmity, are we?"

She didn't reply, instead opting to walk towards the door. Instantly, long fingers grasped her arm, pulling her back so that her head banged against his chest.

"What the fuck, Riddle!" she swore, massaging her skull with her free hand. "Could you please stop treating me like some pet for your enjoyment?"

Riddle let go of her arm. "You'd do well, little bird, to realize that there is but one person who is protecting you from the rest of your House."

She spun around swiftly to jab him in the chest. "Yes, well, people who protect others don't lord over people!"

Riddle grabbed her hand before it could touch him, however. His skin was surprisingly warm, and Aria bit her lower lip worriedly as he lowered her arm, pushing it down forcefully. "I think," he whispered directly into her ears, "we had established that there is nothing I do without expecting something in return."

"You're a monster."

"All the same, I'm all you have, for the moment."

"I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you very much!"

He snarled as she made to move back into the classroom, effectively halting her steps. With one smooth movement, he was level with her, pointing at various members of the class. "Astoria, Elizabeth, Pansy, Delilah, Desiree, Millicent, Daphne, and various others, are just dying to show you your place. What makes you think you can resist them without a wand?"

"I'm not going to take your shit lying down, Riddle. You can't just—attempt to seduce me every time you want some information—and then just—"

"I see," Riddle replied in deceptively calm tones. He then stepped forward, pushing her back so that she was stuck between him and the stone wall. "This is what you want stopped, yes?" he whispered, his hand rushing past her arm, leaving fire in its wake to make its way to her throat as he tilted her chin up. "This is something you despise?" His grey eyes smouldered as his fingers carved their way to her cheekbones, leaving her flushed. "Is that what you're asking for?"

Quietly: "Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking for."

He dropped his hand as if burned.

"Very well. I shall trouble you with such attention no longer."

With that, he stepped back calmly and moved out of the little storeroom, leaving a very flustered Aria in his wake. Her fingers unconsciously traced the path his hand had made, and then she groaned, burying her face into her hands before getting up, and brushing off her jeans. She stepped out of the storeroom with her head bowed, not bothering to glance at Riddle. Well, not that he was looking at her anyway.

Okay fine, so she peeked. No harm in that, yeah? Riddle was coolly measuring the powdered root of Asphodel, before dropping it into his cauldron. Aria froze as he tilted his head up and met her eyes, her face resembling a deer caught in headlights. Then he looked past her as if she didn't exist at all. Next to him, Astoria smirked, before grabbing his arm and pointing to the cauldron. He bent his head as he surveyed the potion before him.

Aria's hands were clenched as she made her way to her own solitary desk in the back, hating how he could do everything so perfectly, so normally, while she had to struggle with the most mundane things. She was so lost in thought that she hadn't even noticed Slughorn bending over her cauldron with a wrinkled nose.

"Not good in Potions, I gather?"

Aria sighed, interlacing her fingers amongst each other before nodding contritely. Slughorn stared at her for a few moments, before calling out, "Alois, come sit here please."

Aria turned back quickly, to see Lestrange glaring at her before nodding, grabbing his things to make his way to her desk.

"Do help Miss Fitz in potions; her skills are somewhat lacking." Slughorn continued, oblivious to the waves of hostility emanating off the seventh year, who glowered before lazily flicking his wand and vanishing the potion in her cauldron. Aria bristled, but then caught herself; she was truly horrible at potion-making.

Across the room, she failed to notice Riddle's eyes on her as she circled past Slughorn's humongous girth to stand next to Alois.

"Thank you, Professor."

Slughorn smiled amiably, before patting her head a little condescendingly as he ambled past to the next student. She glanced at Lestrange, who was staring at her with undisguised hostility.

"A few instructions too hard for you to comprehend, Mudblood?"

"Tell me, Lestrange, how does it feel when another Mudblood beats you all the time in every subject?" Aria retorted lightly, forcing herself to look into her book and not stare at Riddle. She had no doubt that he, amongst various others, were watching this interaction interestedly.

Alois growled low in his throat, before flipping the pages of the textbook hurriedly. Unable to help herself, Aria smirked. "Are you going to growl at me like a rabid dog every time I beat you in a conversation?"

This seemed to snap something in Lestrange, who turned around swiftly and slammed his hand on the table. "Listen, Mudblood, you won't have this immunity of yours for long," he threatened softly, "and once it's gone, I promise you, I'll be the first to pounce."

"Something to look forward to, then," she replied dryly.

He muttered something underneath his breath, before heating the cauldron. "Get me some pine leaves."

"Get them yourself."

"Listen, Mudblood—"

"If you call me that, I'm never, ever going to get it."

Lestrange pinched the bridge of his nose angrily, glaring at her as he scowled. "Fine, _Fitz_, get me some pine leaves, along with the Root of Verona."

She nodded briskly, setting off to procure the required items. When she came back, Lestrange had a maniac grin on his face. Aria narrowed her eyes as he smirked at her.

"Looks like your little immunity is gone."

"What?"

"Riddle, here—"he cocked his head towards the Head Boy—"has decided that I'm allowed to punish you if you're being too disrespectful."

She glanced at the Head Boy, who had a smirk on his face as he looked at her with his arms crossed on his chest. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his arms that made them glisten.

"I see," she said softly, refusing to back down, still keeping her eyes locked with Riddle's... "Do your worst then."

Lestrange frowned at her. "I don't need your permission, Mudblood!"

"But you have it anyway."

"Shut the fuck up." He snapped, grasping his wand furiously. At the exact moment, Slughorn clapped his hands together forcefully, bringing them all to attention.

"Time's up, children. Have a nice day."

Aria turned to her rucksack immediately, packing up her things, secure in the knowledge that Lestrange wouldn't, _couldn't_ do anything bad while in the classroom itself. Next to her, Lestrange was doing the same, flicking his wand to make everything disappear. Aria blinked when the contents of her desk cleared itself instantly; that was something she had spent ages doing during the previous classes.

Hesitantly, she stepped past the seventh-year to make her way to the front of the classroom. She could almost feel Lestrange breathing down her back as he followed her.

"Fitz." Malfoy nodded at her, walking towards them slowly. "You need to tell me when you plan to keep that infernal date."

From behind her, Lestrange growled, but Malfoy continued to look at her undeterred.

She had completely forgotten about the date! The initiation, which had been so informal, that it felt almost useless. Aria hefted her rucksack a little more securely as she shifted from one foot to another. "To be honest, I completely forgot about it." She said apologetically, "We can keep it whenever. Friday good enough for you?"

Malfoy looked at her oddly before raising one smooth, blonde eyebrow. "You've already found a way out of the castle?"

"I'm mates with Harry."

Immediately, his _somewhat_ amiable countenance changed. _"Saint Potter_._" _He spat, looking furiously at her. "Very well, I'll see you at the Entrance Hall tomorrow at twelve, Mudblood."

As he turned around to walk away, Aria could feel the tip of Lestrange's wand poking her in the back. He prodded her forward, so she stumbled a little, crashing into Malfoy who glared at her while grabbing her arm and pulling her upright.

"Can't you even walk properly?"

Malfoy's eyes then widened when he noticed Lestrange's wand on her back. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, grabbing her arm to pull her so that the wand was nowhere in her vicinity any longer.

"Riddle gave me permission, Draco. Back off."

"No! I won't back off. Didn't you hear? I decide her fate. Riddle forfeited the rights to do so when he created that ridiculous test."

My hero, Aria thought sarcastically, watching the testosterone-fuelled atmosphere with half-closed eyes of amusement.

"Draco—"

"Absolutely not!" Draco fumed, pushing her forward along with him, "He can't act like he owns all of us. Bloody hell, do you have any idea how I've had to bear Pansy after he did that? I'd like to see him try that with Astoria!"

Alois, surprisingly, backed off, throwing up his arms, though his eyes were narrowed. "You are going to keep her Threatened, of course?"

"Well, obviously." Draco replied a little dismissively. Aria jerked her arm away from his angrily.

"What the fuck?"

"You—you bloody ferret! How can you people be such bigoted idiots?! Do you have any idea—any idea whatsoever what I've done for—"Aria threw her hands over her mouth.

"Don't they teach you how to be grateful, Mudblood?"

"Malfoy, ten points from Slytherin for the use of unforgiving language."

All three of them turned to see the Head Boy and Head Girl gliding towards them, Hermione's face glowering with anger.

"Are you alright, Aria?"

Aria stepped back, looking anywhere but at Riddle. "I'm fine, Hermione. We were just having a friendly chat."

"Is that why you're going on a date with him?"

This time, Riddle accompanied them in staring at Hermione incredulously. "What?" she snapped, looking at each of them furiously, "I'm not dense, and I _am_ Head Girl. I know there's something going on, and that you, Riddle, are the perpetuator of these schemes!"

Riddle gave Aria a contemptuous glance. "Couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"

"She didn't tell me anything." Hermione defended, crossing her arms primly. "I heard Draco here mouthing off about such an arrangement."

"I see," Riddle said; tone deceptively calm. "Well, it's a House matter, and even if you're Head Girl, you can't force us to tell you. Also, being Head Boy, I can assure you it's nothing dangerous or illegal. Aria hasn't been harmed yet, has she?"

She wanted to scream angrily, and tear his perfect hair out. She hadn't been harmed, but not for lack of trying. She hadn't been harmed out of pure luck!

Hermione bit her lip as she stood before Aria, looking at the younger girl with concern. "Are you sure you're alright? I don't need to interfere, do I?"

Aria couldn't help it; she glanced at Riddle's impassive face. But what was it he had said? She needed protection? Well, she'd show him. She might not have her magic, but that definitely did not mean that she was some damsel in distress who couldn't take care of herself. _Knowledge_ was power, and Aria had _heaps_ of knowledge regarding each and every person of this castle.

So she laughed a little, forcing her face to look relaxed. "Honestly, Granger, you're like a mother hen. I'm fine. I will be fine too."

Hermione's face broke out into a tentative smile as she nodded. Together, they turned to look at the other three boys. "I'll see you around, Riddle. I'm going back to the hall for lunch."

Riddle nodded, his grey eyes never leaving Draco's face, even as Malfoy shrank back. "Yes, see you around, Granger, Fitz."

The use of her surname made Aria blink, but she nodded and followed Hermione quietly, mind running at the speed of light.

* * *

Hermione looked at Aria from the corner of her eyes, frowning at the crease between her eyebrows. She wasn't stupid; she knew that Aria was just about to get into a fight with two Slytherin's, both of whom hated her very existence. And she was going to do that without a wand to help her.

"Aria, look, if there's anything you need to talk to me about, I'm—"

The younger girl shook her head quickly, black bangs flying across her forehead. "Honestly, Hermione. I'm fine. It was just," she looked away, "a little misunderstanding."

"There's no harm in admitting that you need help." Hermione said as gently as she could, watching as pain flitted across her face. Aria then sighed.

"Being without magic is worse than I thought."

"I know I've never asked you this before—since Harry had told us all it was a delicate topic—but are you honestly alright? I mean, you've just recently lost your parents. Your world must be shattered."

"You have no idea just how shattered it is."

Hermione didn't press her after that; she knew that leaving someone alone while they were struggling with something wasn't wise, but sometimes, it was for the best. Sometimes, the best ideas stem from one's own brain.

"My parents—"she began, "were terrified when they got a letter from Hogwarts. We had the most frightful rows, and they thought I should pursue a career in Muggle education, since it's apparently more life-oriented. They refused to send me to Hogwarts—but I managed to persuade them to buy me a wand and books. I've been home-schooling myself since, via reading books and practising magic whenever we came to London for a short trip. Truth be told—and this might sound really rude—I'm glad they're no more. I mean, of course I tried to protect them, but in my heart of hearts, I knew they were more interested in my growing up and earning money to support our lifestyle—they had no thought for my hope, my dreams."

"Protect them from what?"

"Two wizards were in our house when we came back from a sojourn to London," Aria recited dutifully, almost easily recalling the details Dumbledore had impressed upon her, "And they acted like they owned the place. They wanted mum to cook for them—and you can imagine how furious my parents were." Aria shrugged. "I think it was me—my magic attracted them. I had my wand on me—"

"But it was pretty useless. And that's why you have the probationary bracelet?"

She nodded.

Then quietly: "The Minister said I performed accidental magic and managed to come to Hogwarts; for no one can really apparate into it with the thought of being here."

Hermione sighed. "Hogwarts: A History never recorded that. Did you kill them?"

"Not on purpose, I only wanted to knock them out. But the chandelier exploded, and there was so much blood—and the other wizard went mental—started using the Killing curse—"

"That was when you moved here?"

"Yeah—and apparently, the force of my magic made the house come crashing down. The other wizard either died, or disappeared—since they found no remains."

"—I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Aria laughed, "I'm just glad to be here, and you guys have accepted me so easily."

"Ginny likes you, for some weird reason. And you've grown on Lauren and Dylan too, and Harry's dad wrote to him in explicit terms to help you settle down, or he'd disown him."

"I will never underestimate James Potter."

"He's a brilliant wizard, y'know? You should see him transfigure things; he can make anything to anything with a wave of his wand."

"—I know, he's amazing. He's been quite the father figure—even funded all my books, robes, clothes, and other items. I think—I think I've let him down by being in Slytherin."

Hermione shook her head. "Every House has its own qualities."

"Yes, well," Aria said quietly, "I really, really thought I'd be a Gryffindor—it's just been a shock, is all."

"Come on, let's go eat lunch."

She followed the Head Girl in silence

* * *

Ginny Weasley pursed her lips as she stared at Astoria and Riddle. "Something's changed."

Dylan followed her gaze over to where the couple was sitting, and did a double take. "What is this? Could the ice finally have melted?"

"Fire burns, Dylan dear. And our Head Boy is looking pretty fired up."

"Can't be Astoria. She's too much of a frigid queen to elicit such a reaction."

Lauren sighed. "Can you both stop staring at them? Honestly, it's creepy."

Ginny snorted, tearing her gaze from the display to look at Lauren, raising one eyebrow. "Hey, Dylan, looks like something's burning here too."

"Really, Ginevra. I have eyes; I use them. Or rather, _relax_ them on Riddle. Doesn't mean I fancy him." Lauren defended, shaking her head at the redhead, before turning back to the food on her plate. "Oh, look, rice!"

"Denial is ugly, Laurie."

"As is trying to divert your friend's attention." Dylan chimed in, smirking.

"But it's rice!"

"What a miracle." Ginny said, rolling her eyes, before fixing them on the couple once more. "Reckon I should scream at them to get a room?"

Dylan gasped. "You couldn't be so cruel, Ginevra! Looks like Riddle's getting some action for the first time; how can we take that away from him?"

"The thought processes of your brain are vaguely disturbing, Dylan."

"I'm American." The girl replied, sticking her tongue out at Lauren before turning to Ginny. "You think they've shagged yet?"

"Before today, I would've whole-heartedly disagreed."

"Yes, well, before today, if you had told me that I would walk in for lunch and see Riddle getting some tongue-action, I would've laughed at you like a harpy."

"Maybe they're finally comfortable with each other?"

"Astoria's putting up quite a panting display; no wonder Riddle refrains from touching her.

"Would you two _stop_? This is way too disturbing, and there are kids here!" Lauren interrupted; gesturing at the first-years huddled in the corner. Ginny let out a sigh before nodding. "She's right, unfortunately."

"I'm pretty sure the poor kids have come across me getting some action at some point in the Common Room, Lauren, relax. This isn't the time to suddenly grow a conscience. Just how many bad things did we hear when we were in our first year?"

"We did catch Fred snogging Angelina."

"—and he was pretty unashamed about it."

"There you go." Dylan said triumphantly, stretching her arms behind her head as she yawned. "Merlin, I'm exhausted."

"You know, I think we should do something. I mean, Riddle's all over us when we're caught doing something like that, and now he's at it in full public."

"It's pathetic how none of the teachers are here either. That boy has all the luck."

"Why don't you show off your Bat-Bogey hex?"

Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "No, he'd know who it was then. We need to do something _original_."

"What are we talking about?" Hermione said, suddenly appearing behind Lauren who jumped a little, before scooting aside.

"Yeah, what's new, guys?" Aria asked, joining Hermione on the bench, looking rather frazzled.

"Merlin, what happened to you?"

"—Dylan, tact. Work on it." Lauren interrupted, giving Aria an once-over before nodding. "She's right. You look like you've just had sex."

"I haven't had sex. Honestly. Why is everyone always talking about that?"

"Because this is the age we discover sex?"

"That was a rhetorical question, Dylan." Aria replied dryly. "Ooh, rice."

"At least someone agrees!" Lauren exclaimed, moving closer to Aria as she brandished her fork. "Someone believes that rice is awesome and to-be-worshipped!"

"I agree." Aria said solemnly, nodding. "Rice is what makes the world worth living in. Rice and chocolate cake."

Ginny looked disturbed. "That's a disgusting combination, Aria."

"Do I question your preference for Dean?"

"Boys," Ginny elucidated, gesturing at a random trio sitting in the corner, "—and food," she continued, pointing at the vast variety of dishes.

"You're right. That was bloody awful of me. I shouldn't compare food to boys, because food is obviously superior."

Hermione snorted into her glass before shaking her head. "No, no, its books which rule the roost."

"Our conversation has just reached a new level of weird. Should I be worried, children?"

"No, mother." Dylan replied, shaking her head. "Not at all. Let's just feast our eyes on our Head Boy whose sucking face off a slag, shall we?"

Aria looked up, her mouth filled with rice. "Rwhat?"

"There, there. Swallow first, ask questions later." Lauren said condescendingly, patting her back. Aria choked, and then coughed, before swallowing a glass full of water. Her head swivelled to the Slytherin table, where Astoria sat on Riddle's lap. She fiddled with his tie, and they couldn't really see her face because her back was to them, but Riddle's smirk was easily visible. Suddenly, he looked up, meeting Aria's eye, who scowled at him, before turning away.

"He's still staring at you." Ginny whispered, when none of them said anything.

"Yes, well—"Aria buried her face in food once more, "—he's probably just arrested with disgust at the sight of me."

"He's _still_ looking at you. And he doesn't look disgusted at all," Hermione said matter-of-factly, sending the younger girl a curious look. Said younger girl shrugged as she wiped her hands on a napkin.

"I honestly have no bloody idea why he is. Truly."

"We believe you, Aria." Dylan said, patting her back. "Of course we do. How could we not? Because Riddle stares at one of us like that every day. Honestly, it's quite vexing."

"Sarcasm is the poorest form of wit, Dylan."

"Lying is the purest form of dishonesty, Aria."

Aria rolled her eyes. "You aren't going to give up, are you?"

"Not really," all four of them chimed together, looking at her curiously. Aria sighed.

"Well, we might've had a moment, and I might've told him to stay away from me."

"Define moment," Ginny said, leaning forward eagerly. The other three followed her as they made a secure huddle.

"Well, uhm—we were discussing the new changes the purebloods want, and he said he didn't really want that to happen—and then we might've come too close while arguing… That's about it."

"How close?"

"That's all that really registers in your brain, doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "But of course. It's not every day that we hear gossip pertaining to Riddle."

"It's not gossip," Aria said in a surly tone. "It happened, and well, I reminded him he had a girlfriend and told him to stay away."

"You know," Ginny said in a contemplative tone, "I think Aria's the spark the lit his fire."

Aria cleared her throat. "Must you talk about this so crudely?"

"No, think on it! I mean, you have a moment with him, and suddenly he's horny. That has to count for something right?"

"Yes, but the moment was yesterday night. He—"

"He what?"

"Nothing." Aria said a little too fast. "_Nothing_. He started snogging Astoria today afternoon. If he was truly affected by what happened, _something_ would've happened last night."

"She's right, unfortunately." Lauren said empathetically, nodding her head. Hermione let out a 'Ha'.

"Not true. Think about it; how do we know if they did something last night or not?"

"Aria would know. She sleeps with that slag."

"Let's just ask her, then," Lauren said, turning to Aria. "Did the slag come to her room last night, in that case?

Aria looked around sheepishly, before lifting her shoulders dismissively. "I don't know; I was too lost in my own thoughts."

"I still don't know how you told someone like him to back off."

"I have morals, Dylan."

"Yes, well, I'd screw the moral if I could screw with Riddle, y'know?" Dylan retorted, winking at Ginny who shook her head slightly before chuckling. "He's so good looking; it should be illegal."

"And there she goes with the corny lines." Hermione said primly, eyes glinting with amusement as Dylan snorted and argued right back.

"Oh, look, they've stopped now—"

"—Astoria looks like she's gonna cry any minute—"

"—what do you think happened?"

"Aria, find out."

Aria laughed before looking at them incredulously. "You're serious!"

"Of course we are. Haven't we just deduced that it has something to do with you and your unresolved sexual tension?"

"We don't have unresolved sexual tension!"

Dylan smirked: "So it's been resolved already?"

"Merlin, no! You're despicable."

Lauren rolled her eyes before grabbing Aria's arm urgently. "Come on, it's the least you can do. And school's been so damn dead lately, it's driving me crazy."

"—you better move fast Fitz; he's getting away."

Aria shook her head from side to side before planting her hands on her hips. "I am not going back to him after I so nicely told him to stay away from me."

"Well, then—Hermione, it's you now."

"Why me?"

"Because unlike the rest of us, not including Aria here, you're the only one who exchanges words with Riddle on a daily basis."

"Aria could be exchanging spit with him, but she's so stupid." Dylan pointed out, making the Slytherin glare at her before sighing.

"Did you ever pause to think that maybe I'm just not interested in him?"

"Only a fool wouldn't be interested in Riddle, Aria," Ginny said in a cool tone, glancing at the Head Boy. "I mean, have you even seen him? Tall, dark, handsome, and with a dash of bad boy because he's the Heir of Slytherin. He oozes sex appeal."

"Guys, focus. Tell Hermione to go find out what Riddle and Astoria are up to." Lauren interrupted, ignoring Hermione's look of exasperation. "I mean, it's not always that Riddle and Astoria have a fight, and I'm simply dying to find out the reason."

"I second that."

"As long as the volunteer isn't me, I support that too."

"There you go, Hermione. Majority is a bitch, isn't it?"

"Okay, fine!" The Head Girl threw up her arms in surrender. "I'll try to find out—I doubt he'll even bother to tell me anyway. But no promises."

Dylan made a small motion of cheering and clapped. "Hermione's got balls."

"Your Muggle euphemisms are really very alarming, Dylan."

"Ooh, tell him that Aria was devastated when she saw that display in the Hall."

"I will murder you in cold blood, Ginny."

* * *

_(02 Hours Later, After Charms)_

Ronald Weasley was confused. It wasn't often that Ron even associated the word confused with himself as long as it wasn't related to studies, but right now, he was undeniably, unbelievably confused as he stared at Hermione Granger with a frown.

Hermione laughed in that nervous manner of hers, before wringing her hands and gesturing rapidly with them towards Riddle, her eyes alight with something; something Ron couldn't place.

And it was driving him crazy.

He had, for six years, successfully, ignored the fact that Hermione was a girl, and now, it was hitting him like a freight ride roller coaster. This was amusing because he'd only been on a roller coaster once when Harry's mum had urged them to, and he had hated that feeling.

Ron felt that this feeling, on the other hand, wasn't so bad, but it was quite frustrating.

Agitatedly, he ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to focus on the conversation taking place between Seamus and Harry, both of whom were discussing the answers to today's Charms test, which had gone horribly for him. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Lavender glare at him; he had broken up with her yesterday after several successful attempts at avoiding her. The witch hadn't even seen it coming, which had left Ron flabbergasted when she had burst into tears. 'Witch Weekly' said that girls were astute about things like that.

Briefly, he wondered if Hermione would be that dense before shaking his head; she wasn't the smartest witch of her age for nothing.

"—Ron, you have any idea about question seven?"

"Wha—no. We agreed to not discuss the paper after it's done, Harry!"

"I know, but Seamus thinks that the spell was something else; and he just won't listen when I tell him it's not."

"Because you have the wrong answer, Potter." Seamus argued right back. "I mean, look at it this way—"

"No! We're not discussing this any longer. What is wrong with you two?"

"Let's ask Hermione." Harry said briskly, completely ignoring his best friend. "Hey, Hermione! What's the answer to question seven?" he called out loudly, making both the Heads turn to face them.

Unable to help himself, Ron turned to Hermione too, unconsciously making note of the frown on her face as his eyes travelled up and down her body. Then he flushed: had he just been checking Hermione Granger out, out of all people?

"I don't know Harry; remind me of the question once more?"

Ron tuned their conversation out as he focussed on Hermione once again, seeing for the first time the way her nose scrunched up cutely when she was confused, or how her hands were always moving as she spoke. Her no-nonsense clothing endeared her to him in some way, despite the baggy robes that hid most of her curves from view. He found that he respected her for it; respected her for being just Hermione, a girl who could always be counted upon, despite how horrible he was to her sometimes.

Gruffly, he made a note of behaving himself around her in future. She didn't deserve the nonsense he shelled out on her occasionally, but in his defense, she always rubbed off him the wrong way. They were always fighting, always sending sparks in their vicinity.

It was this feeling, like something was burning down his throat—like ice on his tongue, with her, and him, and both of them together—and everything else just seemed to stop existing.

Ron wondered if she felt the same way he did during their fights. Their absolutely inconsequential fights; about how she was a bookworm, he was obsessed with a ridiculous sport, she had no friends, and he had no interest in anything apart from himself… His train of thought broke when she turned to him.

"Have you seen Aria around, Ron?"

"Not since breakfast, no."

"Right," she nodded at him, before turning to Riddle once more. Ron felt something inside him protesting at that, roaring at him to grab her attention once more, but what was Ronald Weasley in front of a man like Tom Riddle?

Frustrated at his thinking, he turned away so that both of them were no longer in his line of sight, leaning against the wall with one leg propped up as he pretended to survey his surroundings with one eye closed.

Did she ever think of him like that? Did she ever feel something in her forcing her to stop when he swept into the room? If she had a boyfriend, would she sometimes pretend that it was him being with her instead?

Ron Weasley knew that he was in love, but denied it.

* * *

Hermione laughed nervously, hoping that Tom wouldn't notice the absolute unease with which she carried herself. She could feel the awkwardness rolling off her in waves, as she tried to make small talk with someone she had never bothered to before.

Obviously, Tom had noticed something was up, for belying his graceful behaviour was this certain cautiousness which made Hermione even more nervous than what she already felt.

"The weather's brilliant, isn't it?" she asked desperately when their conversation lulled once more, and Tom turned away a bit as if he was going to walk away.

He stopped and raised one eyebrow. "You want something."

Hermione sighed. "I do. I want information—and I swear I didn't volunteer—but Aria absolutely refused to, and they said that I was the one who spoke to you on a daily basis—not that I said anything of course—and it'll be fine if you don't tell me—and this is incredibly awkward because we've never displayed such interest in each other before, but—"

"Hold up, Granger," he interrupted, raising one hand, "are you trying to tell me that you fancy me?"

"W-what?" she sputtered, "Whatever gave you that idea, you ponce?"

"You're stuttering something awful and you're completely red."

"Well, it's not that, I assure you."

"Then what is it? Make it fast; I have work to do."

"Did you and Astoria break up?"

Hermione winced at the wording, before looking up cautiously to see an impassive look on his face. Before he could say anything though, Harry shouted out from behind her, . "Hey, Hermione! What's the answer to question seven?"

She turned around with a frown. ""I don't know Harry; remind me of the question once more?"

"Hermione Granger not remembering a question?"

She flushed. And then a little bossily: "Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"Right, right, keep your pants on. It said—what is the incantation for the Pointing Charm?"

Tom interrupted, _"Point Me_."

Seamus crowed triumphantly, "Thanks, Riddle. You see, Harry?"

"Well, then, I guess I'm not getting an O, then. Mum won't be happy; she keeps going on and on about how amazing she was in Charms when she was in school."

"Flitwick keeps comparing you both too," Hermione agreed.

"Yes, well, Dad preferred Transfiguration, but I like Defense against the Dark Arts."

"It'll be fine Harry. It's not like your mum will say much over a random test like this."

"Still," Harry said dismally, "she'll be disappointed. And when she's disappointed, she pulls that face; the one that has the great ability to make you feel guilty. Dad actually postpones his night-outs with Sirius when she's like that."

"Women," Seamus began wisely, "have their days and nights of the month."

Hermione snorted. "As if men don't?"

"I actually beg to differ, Granger. Take your friend Aria, for example. In the beginning, she hates me, and then she apologizes, and then she goes mental once more."

Harry gave Tom a curious look: "You mates with Aria?"

"Mates is too strong a word; acquaintance, at _most_."

"Yeah, she does think of you as a prat." Seamus explained. "Despite the fact that we tried to convince her otherwise. And she bloody refuses to give us a reason for her thought process."

"He's obviously done something to arouse her ire," Hermione defended, pointing accusing at Riddle.

"She screamed when she saw me; and that was before I had opened my mouth."

"That's a little harsh."

"Bloody mental, that one."

"—but she came to Hogwarts in certain…unusual circumstances. I think we shouldn't judge her that fast."

"What unusual circumstances, Potter?"

Harry furrowed his brows before sighing: "You aren't allowed to say anything to her about this, yeah?"

"Alright—"

"No, Harry! That's her personal information. You can't just go around volunteering it to people like him!"

"—Granger, you have been hanging with her more than necessary."

"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

"Oh, please, who else refers to me with words like that?" Tom shot back, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner. "I mean, she enters Hogwarts, screams at the sight of me, refuses my offer to be mates, and then when I finally manage to pierce that shell around her, she actually tells me to back off. What is she trying to hide?"

"In her defense, you do keep staring at her like a creepy stalker."

"He does what?"

"It's true," Hermione said lightly, "he even stares at her while kissing his girlfriend."

"_Kinky_, dude," Seamus said, with awe in his eyes, "You fancy her or something?"

"Your reaction to this is worrisome, Seamus."

"No, I mean, he looks at her while being with a totally hot bird like Astoria; there has to be something fishy."

"—or kinky."

Tom looked amused. "I don't fancy her; she just makes me so bloody curious."

"—and that's the weakest reason I've heard for staring at girls, and I'm mates with Potter, who looks at Cho Chang, out of all people."

"Hey! I don't look at Cho Chang!"

"That's right. You _pine_ over Cho Chang."

"Look here, Seamus—"

"Harry, have you seen Aria around?"

Harry stopped glaring at Seamus and turned to Hermione with a shrug, "I haven't actually. Not since breakfast. Why?"

"Because I think she, and Riddle should talk."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, shut it, Tom. You know I'm right. You guys have sexual tension that can be spotted a mile apart."

"That's bloody ridiculous!" Tom exploded; and then stiffly: "I don't want to talk to her."

Hermione ignored him, turning to Ron who had been silent for the whole conversation. "Have you seen Aria around, Ron?"

"Not since breakfast, no."

"Right," she nodded at him, before turning to Riddle once more. "You still have to answer my question," Hermione reminded, feeling heaps more confident about talking to him about a personal matter after the conversation they had just had.

"Granger, I'll make a deal with you."

"I'm listening."

"You tell me what the circumstances are that Potter speaks of, and I'll tell you if I and Astoria broke up or not."

Hermione lowered her eyes contemplatively, before nodding. "Do you mind—yeah. That's perfect."

They shifted away from the group a little. "Ladies first," Riddle said graciously, making Hermione roll her eyes.

"Her parents died right before she came to Hogwarts," she said brusquely, "and I guess the reason she screamed was because she thought she was still in her house, being attacked by two men in robes."

Tom leaned against the wall, looking at her with half-closed eyes. "So you're telling me that she couldn't even defend herself?"

"Her parents are…were Muggles, Tom. When she got the letter, they refused to send her to Hogwarts, but she managed to convince them to buy her a wand and books. She's been home-schooling herself, practising magic while coming to Diagon Alley about once a month when her parents visited London so she wouldn't be caught using underage magic by the Ministry. The day she managed to come to Hogwarts, her house was raided by two wizards who wanted something to eat. Her parents refused…and they started torturing them. Aria obviously whipped out her wand, but you can well imagine how useless she was against two grownups… The Ministry theorized that her pent-up magic made her accidentally move to Hogwarts…"

"That's really awful, but she seems rather…relaxed about the fact that her parents died, doesn't she?"

Hermione nodded. "They were tyrants, Riddle. She said they were less like parents, and she wanted to escape their clutches—obviously she isn't desensitized enough to not mourn them, but she is rather relieved, I suppose, that—"

"That's well and fine," he interrupted, "but don't you think she knows Hogwarts too well for someone who's never been here before?"

"What do you mean?"

"How many times were you late for classes because you got lost on your first year here, Granger?"

Hermione shrugged, before sighing. "I guess she roams around with Ginny; they're in the same year and all."

"—or maybe there's another story behind this that she didn't tell you."

She laughed. "You both have these ridiculous conspiracy theories regarding each other. According to her, you're a bigoted pig, and you think she's hiding something from all of us. I'd tell her the same thing: which is to stop being so paranoid."

When he was quiet: "My turn now. Did you and Astoria break up?"

"Not quite. We had a row, but she'll come back fast enough."

"I don't think so. We women are quite stubborn; I expect she hopes that you'll be the one to apologize, and I gather it was technically your fault."

"—my fault?"

"You were boring holes into the back of Aria's head," she said in an amused tone, grinning when he scowled.

"She scowled at me first!"

"That's because you two had a moment of sorts, didn't you?"

"—you were allowed just one question, Granger."

"Oh, that's fine. She told me all about it anyway."

"Really? So what'd she say?"

Hermione wagged her index finger at him, "Oh, wouldn't you like to know, now?"

"—that's pretty sneaky of you."

She smiled widely. "How about you tell me your version of it, and then I'll tell you what she said?"

Riddle sighed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, 'women' before nodding stiffly. "We argued, we came closer, she told me to back off and reminded me that I have a girlfriend."

"What'd you do after that?"

"What any self respecting male would do—I told her to go away."

"That's not what any self-respecting male does."

"Then why don't you tell me, oh great one, what is it that males do in such a situation?"

Hermione smirked. "If you wanted to snog her, and I gather you did, you should've stopped her, told her how beautiful she is, how you just can't keep your eyes off her, and that you're going to leave Astoria for her at the first opportunity."

"Basically," he said dryly, "you wanted me to lie to her. And I'm the Slytherin here."

"If you are truly interested in her, you'd have to break it off with Astoria, Tom. I don't think she's the type to go for an affair."

"That's the problem. I'm not interested in her."

"Do you reckon any bloke talks with a friend of a girl about that particular girl for half an hour, trying to find information about her when he isn't even interested in her?"

"I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction revived him."

Hermione scoffed. "Sure, live in denial. We'll see how satisfied you are when she ends up with another bloke."

"I'm telling you, I couldn't care less—and as if you aren't living in denial over your feelings for Weasley."

She bristled. "Which Weasley?"

"Who do you think?" he said sarcastically, before jerking his head towards Ron, "That one, of course."

"You're deluded."

"_Ah_, _ah_, not quite. I've seen you give quite murderous glares to that girlfriend of his."

"That's because I don't like the said girlfriend."

"Yes, but now that those two have broken it off, you don't even bother to glance at her."

She sputtered, before shaking her head. "Stop psychoanalyzing me, Riddle."

"Grant me the same courtesy then."

Hermione scowled. "Very well; I'll stay away from your matters, you stay away from mine."

"Let's shake on it."

They grasped hands forcefully. "For the record, you're going to come around about Aria one day, and I'm warning you, it might be just too late."

Riddle smirked lazily, looking completely unperturbed. "Likewise, Granger. Likewise."

* * *

_(Thursday Morning: Breakfast)_

"How come we all meet only in the morning?" Dylan complained in a whiny tone, stuffing toast into her mouth. "I mean, I get it, Aria's in Slytherin, Hermione has another dorm, but still. We should totally make an effort to meet up at times when Ginny isn't quite so grumpy."

Ginny scowled. "You'd be grumpy too, if someone woke you up in the morning by pouring water all over you."

"That's a damn lie, Ginevra; you're grumpy regardless of whether I throw water on you or not."

"—I'm not exactly a morning person."

"Neither am I," Aria said, covering her mouth as she yawned, "but Dylan's right. How is it that whenever I come to the Hall for lunch or dinner that none of you are here, and I have to eat all alone at the Slytherin table?"

"We did meet yesterday for lunch, but you're right. I think," Hermione theorized between bites, "I'm the first to eat and leave for the library, and usually, Ginny has Quidditch practise even during lunch hours—"

"—because Harry's a bloody slave driver," Ginny mumbled grumpily.

"—Dylan is the only one of us who goes for Divination, and Lauren is just lost."

"Where is she right now anyway?"

"In the Owlery, sending a letter to her mum."

"At least one of us keeps a steady correspondence; I haven't replied to my dad's letter for ages," Dylan said wistfully.

"The post here, yet?" Ginny asked, ignoring her dorm mate.

"Where were you the past ten minutes when we read the Prophet?" Aria asked incredulously, looking up from her food to give Ginny an exasperated look. "You couldn't be sleepy enough to actually miss all those owls swooping down the ceiling."

"And that is why, Aria dear, you aren't an athlete."

Aria snorted. "Well, anyway, since you asked, there was nothing important in the Prophet today either. The Ministry _has_ probably ordered a black-out."

"I knew it," Ginny said triumphantly, before frowning at her plate. "Hey, where's my toast?"

"What toast?" Dylan asked a little too quickly. Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it promptly.

"Never mind, it's too early to argue with you right now." She put her head on the table and closed her eyes.

"I have gossip."

Ginny's head left the table immediately. "Come on, Hermione, don't hold out on us."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I asked Riddle if he and Astoria had broken up."

"What'd he say?"

"You sound very interested, Aria." Dylan said teasingly, "Especially for a girl who claims to be not interested in him."

"Quiet, you."

"He said they had a row, but she'd come back to him fast enough." Hermione said loudly.

"How's he so bloody sure?"

"_Hello_, Aria? How many times have I told you to use your eyes and look at Riddle without the evil glare?" Aria stuck her tongue out at Dylan before shaking her head.

"But she must have some dignity!"

"Can you all please stop shouting; my head hurts." Ginny moaned, pouring herself a glass of orange juice before continuing. "Aria, I don't even need to answer your question, Dylan put it up nicely enough. Hermione, but why did they have a row?"

The Head Girl rolled her eyes. "Because he was staring at Aria and Astoria caught him? Though in his defense, and I quote, 'she scowled at me first'."

"You did?"

Aria frowned contemplatively. "I think so, I mean, I don't really remember. I was more interested in the food."

"Lies. You looked up from your food to see Astoria and Riddle snog."

Dylan snorted. "She's so into him."

"No, I'm not," the Slytherin snapped back, "Although I do agree he's unbelievably good-looking."

"Mate, you ain't seen Cedric Diggory yet. Trying to look at the two of them together made even Hermione drool."

"Who's Cedric Diggory?"

"Oh, he graduated two years back," Ginny said in a collected voice, "and believe me when I say this: it was nigh impossible to choose who looked better, Riddle or Diggory. I guess because Diggory was the light while Riddle was the dark. It actually depends upon your preferences."

"I myself prefer bad boys."

"Of course you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," the Head Girl said in a placating tone before sighing. "So, what's the first match?"

"Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. We're winning."

"Of course; we have Harry, and he's the best Seeker in all of Hogwarts."

"Hey," Ginny began in an injured tone, "what are we? The decoration?"

Dylan rolled her eyes before patting the redhead on her shoulder. "Relax, Ginny, she didn't mean it like that. We all know how Quidditch-inept Hermione is."

Aria raised her arms to stretch. "Is it time for classes yet?"

"It's seven twenty-five."

"Bloody hell, I'm late." She grabbed her rucksack from its position on the floor before looking at the three Gryffindor's accusingly. "What, you _all_ have a free period?"

"Good morning, Aria, Ginny, Dylan, Hermione," Amy chirped brightly, taking the seat Aria had just vacated. She blinked at the Slytherin. "You have class?"

Aria scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Poor, poor you. How are you all this morning?"

"I'll be right back! Hey, Aria," Ginny said in a low tone, accompanying her to the entrance of the Great Hall. "Can we tell Amy about you and Riddle?"

Aria glared at her. "Absolutely not; especially since there is no me and Riddle."

"If there is no you and Riddle, then what's the harm in telling her?"

"Ginny, she rooms with Lavender and Parvati." Dylan said from behind Ginny; apparently she had followed the two.

"Oh, right," Ginny said sheepishly, "of course, I totally forgot."

Aria nodded. "See you around?"

The two Gryffindor's smiled brightly. "Let's try to meet before breakfast tomorrow, yeah?"

She chuckled. "Of course."

* * *

_(Same Time-Astronomy Tower-During Breakfast)_

"You're so beautiful; remind me why everyone doesn't know we're together again?"

Lauren laughed, putting her hands around his waist to lean forward so that they were nose-to-nose. "You know why perfectly. And stop distracting me; I'm supposed to be on my way to send a letter."

He grabbed her right hand and twisted it forward, planting a kiss onto her palm before sighing solemnly. "I would never, ever even dream of distracting a babe like you."

"You surely jest, sir knight," Lauren said loftily, ruining the effect by wiggling her eyebrows and planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. "You happen to distract me all the bloody time, and at the most inopportune moments too. I have a theory that you do it on purpose."

Cormac McLaggen smirked widely, opting to kiss the girl thoroughly in front of him instead of replying. When they broke apart breathlessly, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I am so lucky to have found a bird like you."

Lauren McKinnon giggled in a way she never had in company before. "Just as I am lucky to find you."

"Why can't I tell everyone that you're mine?"

Lauren sighed. "You know why; Dylan would be devastated."

"But she has to know sometime, yes?"

She bit her lip as she frowned. "Between you and me, I'd rather it be later than sooner. And she is distracted pretty easily; let's just wait till she finds someone else to adore from afar."

"I can't say I fault her taste though."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "You are so full of it," she chided lightly, smacking his chest, "But I can't say I fault her taste either."

He winked at her, before pulling her for yet another heated snog.

* * *

_(After the First Class)_

Aria peeked into her bag as she walked briskly, trying to find her Arithmancy homework before groaning; it appeared she had left in the her dorm, and now she'd have to go back and brave the Slytherin's who took great offense on seeing her with Gryffindor's to retrieve it.

"Aria, wait!"

She turned around to see the Head Boy leaning with one leg propped up against the stone wall. He straightened up before approaching her in slow, languorous strides. Just looking at that made Aria think of how long ago it had been since she had spoken to him.

"What is it, Riddle? Make it fast—I have—"

"—I know you're incredibly busy, but surely you could spare a few moments?"

She sighed. "Fine, fine," she muttered, walking towards him so that they were standing right in front of each other. "Yes?"

He smiled charmingly. "There, now that wasn't so hard was it?"

"Look, Riddle, I'm not here—"

"—to be some pet for my enjoyment; believe me, I _know_."

"Well, then," she fidgeted, "good."

"I just wanted to know if we could start over."

Sceptically: "This is what, the third time round?"

"Yeah," he said testily, "the third time round."

"I don't see why."

"I believe you meant to say: 'I don't see why not'."

"No, not at all. I meant exactly what I said. Why should we bother starting over, when we come to the same point ultimately? You called the first truce, but I broke it. I called the second truce, and you broke it. What are the chances of us getting along peacefully? Slim to none?"

"I don't recall how I broke the truce. You're the one that went back to the same hostility."

Aria sighed. "Well, maybe I was hostile, but you gave Lestrange permission to _punish_ me, if I recall correctly. If it wasn't for Draco—"

"You told me to stay away because you could handle yourself."

"That's not the ruddy point!" she exploded. "I entered Hogwarts, and you tried to bloody seduce me for information, but I let it slide. Then, then next morning, you put me down in front of your House. Then, in detention, you—I don't even know what you did or were trying to do, okay? But telling me to disappear like that was bloody rude of you—as was manhandling me in the Potions storeroom, and then allowing someone like Lestrange to hurt me. I might've acted cocky, but blimey, Riddle, we both know I shoot off my mouth with no regard sometimes, and to top that, I have no bloody wand!"

He didn't say anything for a few moments. Then: "I would have interfered if Lestrange had gotten too far. You think it was a coincidence that Hermione interrupted when she did?"

Aria chuckled mirthlessly. "You just don't get it, do you? It must be so _hard_ for you to see beyond your own self for a moment and actually stoop to the levels of someone like me. And anyhow, I don't trust you. So it's best if we drop the façade of getting along, yeah?"

"You're too stubborn for your own good."

She shrugged.

"And also, might I remind you, Fitz, that despite everything, I am the one that controls your fate in Slytherin? You could be dodging spells and hexes every second if I choose to—"

"—No, no you don't actually. Draco can override your command." The use of her surname stung somewhere in her heart.

He paused. "I see."

"Do you really?" she asked tiredly, before hefting her rucksack and looking up to meet his eyes. "I think we belong to different worlds. We're different people, Tom. We could never get along, no matter how much we try."

"Very well." He bobbed his head. "If that's what you want, I'll cease all familiarity with this instant."

She watched as he spun on his heels and walked away, not glancing back even once.

(Aria Fitz suddenly felt her mood plummet even though she knew she had done the right thing.)

* * *

_ (Two Hours before Lunch-Broom Closet-Fifth Floor Corridor)_

"Why can't we let people know we're together?" Dylan asked in a low tone, brushing her hands past his robes so that they rested on his hard, lean chest. "He's a bloke, he'll get over it."

Cormac McLaggen shook his head softly, running his fingers through a stray curl on her face before brushing it behind her ear. "Boot's been really devoted to you for the past five months Dylan, and he informed me that he fancied you before I could. You know the bro-code."

"I know, I know. But don't you reckon he's over me, yet? I mean, he barely even looks at."

"You don't notice, angel. But I assure you; he's truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

Dylan stuck out her tongue playfully. "Don't you quote Savage Garden to me, mister. They're my favourite band."

"Sorry, sorry. How dare I quote a song that doesn't even belong to you?"

"I should punish you for being so cheeky," she said teasingly, rolling her eyes when he grinned in anticipation. "Or maybe not."

"You couldn't be so cruel, princess."

"Oh, but I am. I'm American, after all."

She reached for his robes, pulling them off and tugged the buttons of his t-shirt. He kissed her bare shoulders, making her shiver.

"Next time, we're definitely finding a better place than a cramped broom closet."

He groaned against her shoulder. "Less talking, please."

She laughed.

* * *

"Nicolas, come in, come in," Dumbledore said in a harried voice, waving his wand so that his office looked marginally less cluttered. "How have you been?"

"I'm worried about you, Albus. You haven't been yourself lately."

Dumbledore laughed. "It is rather difficult hiding things from a man who is six hundred and seventy once years old. You must forgive me for even trying."

Nicolas Flamel ambled into the room on his wooden-topped cane, surveying the mess around him with critical eyes before sighing. "Even Perenelle noticed; and you know how her memory has been these past few years."

"A few years to you only, Nicolas. A Decade is a large amount of time."

"We've had this argument," he said impatiently, brushing away a few files on a vacant chair before seating himself on it. "I can't quite keep track of time nowadays, but you've been jumpy since the meeting."

"I am Minister of Magic; it is my job to be jumpy when people plan to stage a protest."

"Not quite, you were quite collected about the whole situation, but lately…"

"If I need advice, I know where to come then," Dumbledore replied lightly. "Sherbet lemon?"

"Merlin, no. I'm allergic. You can't take the burden of the world on your shoulders alone, Albus, brilliant as you are."

"I'm not—remember the girl I spoke to you about?"

"Aria Fitz, the time-traveller."

"I do envy your memory, Nicolas. Nowadays, I find even the most mundane things escaping me. Yes, her. We need to have her meet the Time Lord. James Potter won't stop pestering me to help her in some way."

"You shouldn't have been hasty enough to tell him, then." Flamel said irritably, before glancing accusingly at the Minister. "You're changing the topic."

"There is no deterring you, is there?" On encountering Flamel's stony gaze, he sighed, before spreading his hands. "I was given a letter."

"And?"

"It had Gellart's handwriting in it."

Flamel was silent.

"I'm not going to tell you the contents. But if there's a war, I'm afraid I can't take sides in it."

"Are you mental, Albus? You're going to let the Purebloods have their way?"

"Help is always give to those who seek it."

"Enough with your cryptic statements—you're Minister, you can't—"

"This is why I'm electing you as my replacement if there is a war."

"W-what?"

"If the situation goes out of hand," Dumbledore said patiently, "I'm leaving the country."

"They have something over you, don't they?"

Dumbledore looked out of the window forlornly. "It hangs over my head like a naked sword, Nicolas. And to be truthful, I'm frightened out of my mind."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

**A/N: AAaaaaaand I can finally begin with the plot. Honestly, these chapters just keep getting longer, and longer, and longer. My first was 2000 words, second went to 4000, third was 5600, fourth reached 7000, fifth was 9000, and now, I've officially reached a 10000 record. 26 bloody pages, people. That's the amount I work on this story.**

**So be nice and review? Honestly, even if it's just to tell me to update soon or that you hate the story. Also, all those people who're following this and not favourite-ing it; I genuinely do hope that this appeals to you enough to have you put it in your favourites list. :D**

**REVIEW.**

**Cheers.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Honestly, a quick word: a few of you complained that you didn't receive alerts for this one. So I'll just say one thing: check out if you've read the previous chapter before you start with this, please. Just in case. **

_(Friday Morning)_

In this world, Aria felt lonely. She felt partially lonely, partially disappointed, and partially in love. The latter two were because of one individual only; the first was her fault altogether. Or, rather, the Hat's fault. In the previous timeline, whenever Aria Fitz felt lonely, she would laugh it off and go rushing to Ginny, or Dylan, or even occasionally Emma, who had a weird name but was a nice enough dorm mate when accosted at the right time; the right time being when she wasn't surrounded by boys of course. Emma and Dylan hadn't come back to Hogwarts to complete their sixth year when the Death Eater's had invaded the castle; Aria had because she was a half-blood. Even though Emma was a pureblood, but her parents had forced her to stay home.

The latter two reasons were something she didn't want to think about, but as is the way of the world—when you try banishing something…or someone from your mind, they keep rushing back at the most odd moments. So, basically, the more she thought firmly: I will no longer think of Tom Riddle, increased the number of times she thought about him—because to be honest, the words 'Tom Riddle' had passed through her brain and now were probably lodged there for all eternity, for her to see, for her to examine, for her to dissect every part of their conversation like a love-struck fool.

It also didn't bloody help that he was all over the school all the bloody time; she turned her head to find him talking smoothly to Hermione, raising one perfect eyebrow at Seamus, chuckling at something Dean had said, or the worst: making out with Astoria. And all this she felt within the span of a day. Couldn't be he a little less conspicuous about himself?

_I sound like a ruddy fool. And can he seriously not notice the sheer number of times I try to look at him?_

What Aria Fitz missed the most was the way his lips curved as their eyes accidentally met from across the room, or how he would instinctively look up as soon as she would enter, or how his eyes would sometimes seek hers out, and she would scowl, but honestly, she was just so, so happy inside, it was a miracle she didn't burst.

But now, he didn't do any of these things, and Aria felt quite miserable.

She was currently blowing off her first lesson as she sat in front of the Great Lake, unhappily peering into its depth as she caught a glimpse of the resident giant squid now and then. Her first lesson was Potions. Only a miracle would force her there, especially now that she had a partner like Lestrange who glowered at her like she had killed his pet dog.

Not that the others didn't glare. But they accompanied it with snide comments, and that made it sort of bearable. Being called a 'Mudblood' didn't really bother her; there were honestly much worse insults like ugly, or shallow, or vain, or other things like that which she could control to some extent and not be horrified about.

She suddenly wanted a release; her life was stressful enough as it is. People drank, or smoked, or did drugs, but Aria herself had never found the appeal. She wondered if she could start now… There was something very prosaic in trying to drink away your sorrows. Movies often portrayed the angst so well. Maybe she should…? There could even be a movie about that: Girl Travels through Time, Is Aware of the Consequences, But Stupidly Does So Anyway, And to top it Off, Falls in Love with the Man She Just Killed.

"Yeah", she snorted ubiquitously, "it'd be a real blockbuster."

She hadn't realized she had said that part out loud until she was interrupted. "What will?"

Aria turned around in surprise to see a very sheepish looking Harry Potter. He looked wonderful despite his messy black hair sticking out all over his head, and his glasses rested a little crookedly on his nose, but all-in-all, he made a very romantic character, the kind that is doomed to become tragically disappointed, she thought a little cynically, before breaking out into a smile.

"Your glasses are crooked, Harry." She pointed out in a calm tone, ignoring his question. He straightened them immediately, even as she said, "There's no hope for your hair now, is there?"

He laughed. "Not quite. My mum says the Potter blokes are cursed with such hair."

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, unsure of what to say. Harry saved her the dilemma.

"I usually come here to think…reflect, rather, on everything. The lake helps."

Aria bit her lip. "It's my first time here. The view looked wonderful from outside, and I just couldn't find myself being able to resist it any longer. I mean, it's so calm, and just so—"

"—not judgemental. Yeah. I get it. Hogwarts is beautiful like that. I still can't believe it's my last year here though."

She scooted aside a bit and patted the grass next to her. Once Harry had obliged, she resumed the conversation. "It's a brilliant school," she said simply.

They were silent after that. From the corner of her eyes, Aria could see him staring into the distance with a very contemplative look on his face. Suddenly she felt curious: what would normal Harry be thinking, a one who wasn't plagued by a prophecy?

"Knut for your thoughts?" she asked lightly, now turning to look at him expectantly.

He stretched his legs on the ground. "Well, not much, really. Just life, in general. You?"

"Well—I just wanted to escape my House, actually. We have Potions—and it's too brilliant a day to be spending it holed up in some dungeon with toxic fumes. Where's Ron?"

Harry looked a little disturbed at the question. "I don't know actually… He kind of disappeared after…after what happened."

"What happened?"

Harry Potter sighed. "Well, actually, it sort of began like this."

_ (One Hour Earlier)_

"Ron! Hurry up, will you mate? I do intend to be on time for Defense…" Harry hollered into the dormitory, looking absolutely furious when his best friend ambled out of the bathroom without a shirt on. "Why didn't you wake up when I told you to?"

Ron scowled. "Bloody hell, Harry, relax, will you? It's Lockhart, he loves you. He's not gonna do anything even if we strut into the class half an hour later than what we're supposed to."

"I know, but I told you that I wanted to go early and finish my homework!"

"You mean: copy it off Hermione."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, nothing," Ron said in a frenzied tone, as he rushed across the dormitory to locate a clean shirt. "You don't think she…fancies you maybe? I mean, she's always letting you copy off her all the bloody time."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed loudly. "This's Hermione we're talking about, Ron. She's like a sister; I doubt she's gonna fall for me anytime soon."

Ron, for some reason, looked pleased. "Aha, found it!" he exclaimed triumphantly, shrugging the shirt on in one smooth motion and started to button it up. "You really think of her as a sister?"

"There's something definitely off about you today." Harry replied, shaking his head exasperatedly. "Hurry up, will you?"

"Keep your knickers on, I'm trying. And yeah, I'm absolutely barking."

"You're always off your rocker," Harry said lightly, now looking immeasurably relaxed since Ron had located his clothes and put them on. "Can we leave now?"

"Yeah, just one bloody sec—Ah. Found it. Let's go."

Harry nodded, deciding to descend down the staircase first, watching as Ron walked down with a slightly unsteady gait. Once they had reached the foot of the stairs, they walked out of the Common Room in companionable silence that none of them felt obliged to break. However, as is the way with best friends, neither of them could keep silent for long.

"Reckon we'll be late?"

"I'm not sure, but we could take a shortcut, I guess," Harry said in a doubtful tone, skipping past the trick step in a single fluid motion. He laughed when he noticed that Ron was stuck. "Ron, mate, this has been there for the past seven years."

Ron grumbled something he couldn't quite understand. "Stop laughing like a loon and help me up, will you?"

Obligingly, he grabbed Ron's arm, and together, they managed to pull the redhead out of the step. Grumbling still, the taller boy brushed his robes almost obsessively.

"Who're you trying to look good for?"

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink. "Nobody, nobody. I just thought there was something—never mind, yeah?"

"If you say so," Harry muttered, shooting his best friend a quick glance filled with curiosity. Then: You've been acting barmy ever since the Lavender incident and I know you didn't even fancy her than much. So what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Harry. Merlin, you're worse than my mum."

Harry frowned, clearly unconvinced, but did not pursue the subject. If Ron wanted to tell him, he would, at his own time and his own pace. Blokes really didn't go into the mushy stuff, but he and Ron usually tried to keep a channel like that open in between, y'know…just in case. Ron had effectively spat on the channel and thrown it away, so he wasn't going to pursue him. No, _really_.

Though his curiosity was currently running around like a cat in heat.

"Well then," Harry said uncomfortably, "you want to take the shortcut or not?"

"Blimey, yeah, Lockhart doesn't like me as much as he likes you."

And that was that. They didn't speak much after that, as they walked into the spiralling staircase around the third floor which would land them directly in front of the Defense classroom. Ron looked uncharacteristically moody, and Harry was more busy thinking of his Defense homework. As a result, none of them noticed the snogging couple until it was too late.

"Bloody hell, mate."

The snogging couple broke apart in shock, Harry lifted one eyebrow on seeing just who it was: Dean and Ginny. Dean and Ron's younger sister. Dean and a girl Harry had met every time for Christmas since he had boarded the Hogwart's Express and become mates with Ron.

Awkward silence stretched across the corridor and for an indeterminable time before everyone started speaking at once.

"—it's not what it looks like, Ron, I swear"

"—it is exactly what it looks like! Could you be less of a pansy, please?"

"—we have Defense, Ron."

"—I'm gonna murder you BOTH!"

Again, once they had all spoken, there was silence, until Ginny broke it.

She flipped her hair. "Well, then, now you know, so that's one awkward conversation prevented."

Ron was slowly turning purple, looking like a radish with bad sunburn. "What is the meaning of this?" he yelled loudly, drawing his wand. "You—you and my sister? You cannot be serious! Where's the loyalty? I mean, you sleep with me for Merlin's sakes, how could—"

"That's a bad mental image, brother."

He rounded on his sister. "And you! How could _you_? Wait till mum hears about this!"

"Oh, that's rich, really, coming from a guy who had his tongue down Lavender Brown's throat a week ago!"

"S-shut the hell up! That's different!"

"How exactly?" The younger girl demanded, planting her hands on her hips in a very Molly Weasley like posture, "It's because you're a bloke, isn't it? You're exercising some vague, archaic right just because YOU WERE BORN A MALE?" she shouted loudly in the end, pushing Dean behind her angrily when he tried to grab her shoulder.

"And you!" She turned to her boyfriend. "You complete…PANSY! Can't you even _pretend_ to grow a pair in front of my stupid brother?!"

Ron and Dean both looked stunned into silence. So, Harry broke it. "Ginny, calm down. I'm sure you guys can—"

"No! I will not calm down! He's being a bigoted git," she pointed at her brother, "and my boyfriend is a pansy! I REFUSE to calm down!"

"Gin—"

"NO! YOU ARE BEING A DENSE ARSE, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

"WELL, I'M NOT THE ONE SNEAKING AROUND WITH YOUR DORM-MATE!"

"AS IF ANY OF MY DORM-MATES WOULD FANCY SOMEONE LIKE YOU!"

"WHAT'S THAT EVEN SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"QUIET!" Harry shouted in between, stepping in front of the siblings. "Quiet, both of you! You both are acting like a couple of kids, for heaven's sakes. Ron, Ginny isn't a child anymore. She's practically an adult now. Ginny, just…stop shouting okay?"

The younger girl huffed in a very annoyed manner before spinning around on her heel. "Tell mum. I don't fucking care," she shouted as she stormed off, a sheepish Dean following her after sending a pleading look to Harry. Harry turned to Ron.

"Mate—"

"No. Just, don't okay? Don't talk to me, please. You took her side here."

Harry squirmed. "To be honest, she's right. You can't exercise your rights on who she wants to date."

"You're…You're barking, all of you."

With that, even Ron walked off angrily, leaving a harangued looking Harry Potter who stared at the back of his friend's head before sighing. It looked as if he wouldn't be attending Defense after all.

_ (Present)_

"…I see," Aria said quietly once Harry had finished his tale. "Did she really call Dean a pansy?"

Some of the tension left Harry's face as he laughed. "Yeah, she did. It would've been hilarious if it wasn't so…"

"Tense?"

Harry nodded, not really saying anything after that. She studied him, noting his green eyes which were subdued, or even the profile of his body, which screamed that he was worried. "And you..? How did you feel about—Ginny dating Dean?" she finally asked, when the silence threatened to become awkward.

"I—I don't know, actually," he replied honestly, still staring into the horizon. "I mean, there's a part of me that gets where Ron's coming from, but all the same, it'd be very hypocritical from him to behave the way he is doing now. Just because she's his younger sister doesn't mean that he can force her to not date people."

"You should tell Ginny that. I'm sure she'd throw you a hug in there."

If she hadn't been watching him so carefully, she wouldn't have noticed the slight jerk he made on hearing about Ginny hugging him. Aria suppressed a smile. They might not be dating right now, but there sure were feelings. And if she was right, they were definitely mutual. Maybe. Hopefully?

"Yeah, I don't think Ron would like that."

Aria looked at him slyly. "Well, he's already angry with you. How much worse could it be?"

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "I'd rather not find out, if it's all the same to you. I mean, Ron's been my best friend ever since I stepped into Hogwarts…We've had a row only once, and it wasn't pretty."

She wanted to pry. She _so_ definitely wanted to pry, and have a peek into this Harry Potter's life, one who didn't look different at all, but was a far more relaxed individual than the one she knew, but it was with great restrain that she stopped herself. He had just told her a very significant incident, shouldn't she be responding in same?

"Well… That's all up to you, of course. But aren't they both in the Quidditch Team?"

Harry actually groaned and buried his face into his hands. "I know, I know, it's gonna drive me mental. Since the matter is of such a…delicate nature, I can't even ask Mrs. Weasley about what to do… Being Captain sucks." But there was fondness in his tone even as he said it, which proved just how much he loved Quidditch.

"Maybe you should just talk to Ginny? I mean, you can ask her to not aggravate her brother, and since she's not your best friend, it'd be a potentially less awkward conversation."

He looked up hopefully. "Can you do it?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you're mates with her, yeah? Just ask her to avoid all potential fights with Ron. Or better yet, ignore him."

"Why don't you tell her yourself?"

"I'm not sure, really," he said quietly, "but, well, it feels like I would be betraying Ron if I spoke to Ginny about that."

Aria sighed. "I'll try to talk to her; she's probably going to go into a hissy fit just at the mention of it. Ginny's all for women empowerment rights and Ron just insulted that pretty bad."

"He didn't mean it."

"I know," was all she said before glancing at him once more. "What are you going to do about Ron?"

"I'm not sure. Since he broke up with Lavender, I really don't know who to approach for talking to him."

Aria pushed her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, placing her chin on her right kneecap. Once more, they were both silent, but it didn't really seem awkward. Together, they looked at the lake contemplatively, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

_ (Afternoon: 12.03 pm)_

Elizabeth Yaxley was a pretty girl. In fact, if one saw her for the first time, they'd be completely blown away. She had long, brown hair that curled in all the right places, big, green eyes and a complexion to die for. She was also a bit of a slut, but that couldn't be helped, because that's how girls like Elizabeth Yaxley are because they're rich, beautiful, popular, and they know it. Elizabeth, hence, had not many girlfriends, but she did have one or two lackeys who were devoted to her intensely. She liked them, tolerated them even, because honestly, Elizabeth had no time for girls who didn't put her before themselves.

"I do hope," she said in a flirty tone to the boy walking with her, "that this Muggleborn situation is resolved as soon as possible. Honestly, it's a disgrace, the way these outsiders carry themselves. Just yesterday, I saw that ugly Gryffindor girl…Dinna, was it?"

"Dylan, I think." Her companion frowned. Upon seeing Elizabeth's vexed look, he backtracked instantly. "Oh, I know only because we played a prank on her in the first year, y'know, when we were still a little juvenile..."

When Elizabeth continued to look at him with those big eyes full of reproach, he stopped walking. "I wasn't noticing her, I swear. _You_ are the fittest bird of this school."

Appropriately mollified, Elizabeth smiled graciously. "_Thank you_. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that slag came out of the broom cupboard on the fifth floor looking completely shagged out. Honestly, these girls have no shame whatsoever."

Blaise Zabini smiled uncertainly, not quite sure of what to say. He needn't have worried, for Elizabeth loved hearing her own voice. Fortunately for her, the same could be said for half the male population of the school too. "And her hair! They're so hideous; it's unbelievable."

She flipped her own hair so that the strands went flying on Blaise's shoulder, and looked at him with wide eyes when he glanced down at the movement. His mouth went dry.

"Y-yeah. They're pretty hideous."

"I just knew you would agree. I mean, all these Gryffindor girls are so ugly. It's a wonder any bloke fancies them."

Privately, Blaise recalled Ginny Weasley's red hair and fit body, or even Emma Macmillan's bright blue eyes, but kept his mouth shut as was expected of him. Elizabeth beamed at him when he made some soft sound of agreement and stopped walking to lean against the wall.

"So, I was thinking…" her hands moved to his tie and yanked him forward, so that their noses almost touched, "since you and I have so much in common…"

In a daze, Blaise rested his hands on the generous curve of her waist and pulled her forward so that she was flush against him.

She smirked, letting go of the tie to tangle her fingers in his hair. "Why don't we….WHAT IS THAT?"

Shocked, Blaise tumbled back, but since his hands were still on the witch in front of him, she stumbled with him, so that they ended on top of each other. One of her hands grabbed his elbow in a vice-like grip, while the other almost suffocated him when it rammed into his stomach.

He coughed. "W-what?"

With surprising dexterity, Elizabeth got off him, not even bothering to make a sly comment on his half-erection. "That!" she pointed behind him. "Merlin, is that…is that a student?"

Still a bit dazed, Blaise turned around on his elbows, still on the floor.

In front of him, was the gruesome sight of a body, splattered with blood.

_ (Half an Hour Later)_

Hermione Granger was on her knees beside the Head Boy, trying to avoid the stench of blood by avoiding breathing through her nose. As a result, she looked as if she was panting, and the sound made the Head Boy give her a smirk before turning back to the prone body in front of her.

"Professor, it's a student." Tom said quietly, getting up and brushing the front of his robes absently. He drew his wand. "Do you want me to levitate it to the Hospital Wing?"

"The person's not an 'it', Riddle." Hermione snapped, following him to where Professor McGonagall stood, flanked by Lockhart and Slughorn.

"My apologies, I just didn't want to say him or her without having the required information."

"Right you are, m'boy," Slughorn agreed, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "I don't see why I'm here, Headmistress, surely, you and the students—"

"Quiet, Horace." Minerva McGonagall interrupted authoritatively. "You were called because Pomfrey needs a blood-replenishing potion. Do you have any in your store?"

Looking pleased to be out of the sight of a body, Slughorn nodded, "Maybe, maybe, I'll go check." He ambled off without a backward glance.

"Professor—"

"Yes, Mr. Riddle. Levitate the student to the Hospital Wing. We shall meet you there." She walked off briskly.

"Allow me, Headmistress," Gilderoy Lockhart said gallantly, ignoring Tom's amused look. He pulled out his wand with a flourish. "_Wingardium_ _Leviosa_!"

The body still lay as still as before.

Lockhart cleared his throat nervously, but raised his wand again, nevertheless. "_Win_—"

Hermione was simple unable to help herself. "You're saying it wrong. It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." Both the males turned to look at her. "Sir," she squeaked.

Tom grinned when Lockhart sputtered. "I am perfectly capable of performing that very _simple_ spell, Professor. It's quite alright. _Wingardium_ _Leviosa_." Riddle flicked his wand, and sure as hell, the student rose a few feet into the air. "After you, sir." He smirked at Lockhart's retreating back.

"Oh my!" Pomfrey exclaimed upon seeing the body. "Right here, Mr. Riddle. I don't believe this—"

"Will you able to cure them, Madam?"

Pomfrey suddenly glared at Hermione. "But of course, Miss Granger. I'm a certified Healer!"

Hermione turned red. "I-I didn't mean it like that, I was just—"

But Pomfrey had already walked over to the cot where Riddle had levitated the student. Riddle raised one eyebrow at her. "Couldn't you show a bit more tact?"

"Oh, forgive me for being worried!" she huffed, glancing at the cot before looking away immediately. Then, softly: "Who would do such a gruesome thing, Tom?"

Riddle looked away thoughtfully. "I'm not sure; there were no signs of a duel, so I'm guessing it was a surprise attack. I don't think you noticed underneath all that blood, but the student is a Ravenclaw. I saw a blue tie."

Horrified, Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth, but didn't say anything.

"In here, Miss Yaxley, Mr. Zabini."

Both the Heads turned around to see McGonagall ushering in the two Slytherin's into the Wing. Yaxley looked as if she had been crying, but Zabini was unbelievably composed for someone who had just found a mangled body on their way to class. He fingered his collar nervously upon seeing his classmates, but the younger girl seemed to have no such prohibition. After sending Hermione a distasteful look, she ran towards Riddle.

"Oh, who would do such a thing, Tom? I couldn't believe it when I saw—"

"Do be quiet, Miss Yaxley," McGonagall snapped irritably, conjuring up a piece of parchment and quills. "Here," she all but thrust them into the hands of the two students, "you can write down all you know of the incident here. And do be serious about it, for this will be going to the Ministry."

At the mention of the Ministry, Yaxley's eyes widened. "But Professor, if this is going to the Ministry…Then my father will know!"

"And?"

"And, well, he just might call a Board Meeting to have the school shut down!"

"Until the matter has been investigated," McGonagall said stiffly, "I request you to keep such things to yourself. It will not reflect well on this school to have useless rumours floating around the castle. Have I made myself clear?"

Yaxley crumpled beneath the glare of the woman known as Minerva McGonagall.

"And you two will ensure that they write their pieces separately. It is imperative that the true story come out."

Both Hermione and Riddle nodded in response, even as Elizabeth said in a coy voice, "I call dibs on Tom."

"You can have him," Hermione said in an amused tone, but still glanced worriedly at the warded off area around the cot that Madam Pomfrey bustled around. "Come on, move to the other end of the Hospital Wing, Blaise."

* * *

_(Evening: 5.00 pm)_

Dylan glanced out of the window with trepidation, noting that it was going to be dark. Her black hair tumbled down her shoulders in a messy manner, but she couldn't honestly bring herself to care. There were more important things to be worried about, like the fact that Terry Boot, poor, innocent, _naïve_ Terry Boot had just been attacked and was now lying in the Hospital Wing, in critical condition.

Because he was a Muggleborn.

Oh, nobody spoke it, but they all knew.

It seemed as if no one was happy that the Ministry was keeping things from them, and the purebloods had decided to go all out.

"What're you thinking?"

Dylan turned around. "Nothing, nothing at all, Emma."

Emma Macmillan was their dorm mate, and sometimes confidante, but usually, Emma preferred to be left alone. She had many guy friends, and she spent most of their time with them. Being utterly fetching helped her case, for she was tall, slender, and had pretty face, with scrunched up blonde curls and big, blue eyes. The picture-perfect doll.

"Have you seen my shirt anywhere? The red one?"

Dylan shook her head, observing the girl rush around the dorm hurriedly. "Do you have a date?"

Emma looked up. "Well, not really, I mean, it's just a study-session—but there's no harm in wanting to look good, is there?"

"Emma. Someone's in the Hospital, hurt so much that it could be weeks before he recovers."

The blonde flushed, before bending over her trunk to give Dylan a perfect view of her jeans clad posterior. She mumbled something from inside the trunk, but Dylan suddenly found that she didn't care. Girls like Emma weren't exactly known for their sensitivity.

"Reckon he'll be out tomorrow?"Ginny Weasley asked, coming out of the bathroom with her wet hair piled up into a bun. Her face was haggard.

"What's up with you?"

"Ron and I had a fight."

"About w—oh. He found out, didn't he?"

The redhead nodded morosely, before climbing into Dylan's bed. She lay down and propped herself on her elbows before looking up. "It all seems so bloody shallow now."

"Don't. Don't find a way to blame yourself for this, Ginny."

"I'm not. I swear. All I'm thinking is, I was just so furious about Ron and his bigoted arse, but right now, all that seems just so stupid and juvenile. Someone actually got hurt, Dylan."

Dylan sighed, interlinking her fingers together. "Where's Lauren?"

"She'll be out in a moment."

"Do I look alright?" The two girls looked up to see Emma standing in front of the mirror, applying some eye shadow. The curve of her waist looked incredibly highlighted by the red top, and her blue jeans made her look like a supermodel. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You know you do, Em. Who're you meeting anyway?"

"Oh," the blonde exclaimed, turning around to strike a ridiculous pose, "it's a secret. He doesn't exactly want people to know."

"Why not?"

"Who knows?" Emma shrugged, picking up her wand and stuffing it into her jeans. She made her way through the dormitory to the door. "Blokes have weird reasons for doing things, and it helps that he's just so bloody fit."

Then she left, leaving Dylan looking vaguely disturbed and Ginny looking vaguely amused.

"There's not much that stops her world spinning on its axis, does it?"

Lauren stepped out of the bathroom, cutting off whatever reply Dylan might have given. She glanced at the two girls briefly, before sighing and making her way to Dylan's bed. "Okay, spill, there's something worrying you two."

Dylan, too, got up from her place on the window-sill and sat down on her bed. "Ginny first."

"Ron found out."

"Oh—damn. What'd he say?"

"He acted as if the world ended. I shouted at him, and Dean was completely no-help, but yeah…I don't think he's talking to me now."

Lauren didn't say anything after that, but instead, sighed, running her fingers through her own hair in a tired manner. "We're all so bloody messed up."

"Terry liked…likes me." Dylan suddenly confessed, looking miserable. "And I knew he did, but I just ignored him—and now I'm so bloody guilty—"

"Oh, _Dylan_…" Lauren pulled her into a half-hug, causing Dylan's eyes to well up a little with unshed tears. "Don't worry yourself about it, honey, I'm sure he'll be up and about in no time, and then you can talk to him."

Dylan sniffed, before wiping her eyes surreptiously. Ginny looked away as she did so.

"What about you, Lauren? Nothing tragic in your life?"

"No. Nothing," she replied a little too fast, her black curls bouncing around her face. "Apparently, Yaxley and Zabini found him, on the second floor corridor."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Hermione told me. I met her rushing towards her dorm to pick up something—and she said there might be an investigation. They just might be called to testify in the Ministry."

Ginny snorted. "No, they won't. Their parents are too influential to allow their precious children to come anyway near a Ministry hearing. It'll blacken their records."

Lauren hummed, but didn't say anything, opting to look around her dorm. "Where's Emma?"

"She's on a date."

"Isn't it a bad time?"

"When does she ever stop for a date?" Dylan grumbled, picking up the wireless and switching it on. "Reckon they'll announce it to the world?"

Soft strains of '_Transmorgify My Love_' were playing. There were no announcements.

Ginny sighed. "Dumbledore's up to something."

* * *

_(Friday Afternoon: In the Trophy Room: 12.10 pm)_

"Why've you brought me here?" Draco Malfoy demanded, following the black haired witch in front of him into the Trophy Room. Said witch rolled her eyes before turning around and giving Draco an amused glare. "Don't tell me you don't know about this passage out of Hogwarts!"

Draco scowled at her. "Unlike your precious Gryffindor's, Fitz, I don't spend all my time cavorting in the castle. I have more important things to do with my life."

"I'm sure," she said distractedly, choosing to get onto her heels and peer into the visor of a gleaming armour, as opposed to replying to Malfoy. She stared into the visor for a few moments before making a satisfied sound. Aria stepped back and gestured to the armour.

"After you."

"Are you mental? I'm not getting in there first. What if you—"

"Draco," Aria interjected smoothly, "we're supposed to be on a date, and though none of us are happy about it, could you at least act a little more amiable?"

He grumbled something underneath his breath but crossed his arms nevertheless. "I'm gonna follow you. So get moving."

Aria sighed. "It was worth an effort, I guess…" she mumbled, raising her arm to lift the visor. The armour suddenly sprang aside, revealing a dark corridor that looked completely uninhabited.

Draco stared at that for a few moments, before raising his wand. "_Lumos._" Then ignoring Aria's amused look, he stepped into the doorway, and shot her an irritable glance. "You coming or not?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she replied, bending her head a little to accommodate her height as she followed him. They traversed the path in complete silence, the only light being the one emanating from Draco's wand. Occasionally, they'd hear voices of people talking, but none of them commented on it. Suddenly there was a scurrying sound, and Aria jumped, banging her head on Malfoy's back.

He cursed colourfully when his shin brushed against the stone wall. "Can't you even walk properly?" he snapped angrily, lowering his wand near his shin to assess the damage. He rolled up his pants to find blood dripping down a shallow scratch. Quickly, Draco tapped his wand against it, and muttered something indiscernible. The scratch closed up instantly.

Aria cocked her head to one side, impressed. "That's a handy trick."

"Yeah, if you want to be a Healer."

"Don't be so cynical," she said lightly, "I'm pretty sure such spells should be known by everyone."

Draco didn't say anything after that, probably because they had reached a gleaming, well-oiled door. He turned to her. "So, must I cast a disillusionment charm?"

"Honestly, Draco, where's your courage? Where's the bravery?" Aria teased, sticking out her tongue when he rolled his eyes. She pushed the door open to allow in some sunlight, and stuck out her hand imperiously. "And here, my lord, is Hogsmeade."

He stepped out of the hole to peer suspiciously into his surroundings. Then: "We're really in Hogsmeade."

Aria frowned. "You don't need to sound so bloody surprised, honestly, where'd you think I would take you? Potions class?"

Draco was still too busy staring at the cobbled street to reply. When he did, however, it wasn't what she had expected. "How about we go to Hog's Head?"

"Why Hog's Head?"

"Because people might see us in Three Broomsticks."

"Draco, you're barking mad. Nobody we know is going to be there."

When he didn't relent, she sighed, "Sure, fine. Whatever you say. Let's just leave, yeah?"

In silence, they walked to the dingy entrance of the pub, which, upon opening, was found to be completely empty. No, seriously. Apart from the barman who was scrubbing the table with a filthy cloth, there was no one else there.

In a confused tone: "Is it supposed to be this empty?"

Draco shrugged. "Good enough for me. At least we won't be spotted by anyone."

Aria, too, shrugged, before walking to a random table while Draco bought two butterbeers in filthy bottles. He placed them on the table and wiped his hands on his pants while scowling. "_Scourgify_" The table cleaned up immediately.

"I never knew you were such a stickler for cleanliness." She commented politely, picking up the now clean bottle to take a swig from it. Draco slid into his chair and rolled his eyes.

"You don't know anything about me, Fitz."

"Why don't you tell me about you, then?"

"I don't want to," he said simply, making Aria sigh, "this isn't the start of a beautiful relationship. We're here only because we have to be, and honestly, I'm perfectly fine with silence. Since we already know what I'm going to rate you."

"Oh, I'm simple quaking in my shoes. Do your worst."

He cocked one eyebrow. "I am gonna do my worst. Especially since you're friends with Saint Potter and that obnoxious redhead family."

Aria gave him a sceptical look. "Save it, the very fact that I'm Muggleborn has you choosing such a status. It has nothing to do with who I'm mates with." Then, softly: "I'm mates with the Gryffindor's because everyone in my House hates me. You can't fault me for trying to fit in _somewhere_."

He looked supremely uninterested, and didn't even reply. Instead, he nursed his butterbeer with steady hands and brought it to his lips to take a drink. Aria studied him while he did so. Draco Malfoy had blonde hair that looked almost white, and a pale, pointed face that somehow went with his tall frame. He wasn't thin, per se, but he looked lean. His arms flexed as he picked up his bottle, so there must be some muscles hidden beneath the white shirt.

"Are you going to be quiet this entire time?" Aria demanded suddenly, when they were silent for too long. And then, almost deviously: "Even Harry's better company than you are."

He banged his bottle on the table. "No, he's not! Bloody Potter, always showing off with that broomstick of his and that ridiculous family. Blood traitors, all of them."

"Really? How's he always showing off with his broomstick?"

"Haven't you seen him play Quidditch?" Draco almost spat, before shaking his head, "Of course you haven't, and you just joined, didn't you? Pretends as if he's the best Quidditch player there is. It's ridiculous."

Aria paused for a moment, before inclining her head. "Are you in the Slytherin Team, too?"

"Seeker," he all but grunted, "and Quidditch Captain. But what's the ruddy use? We haven't won a single Cup since Potter joined the team. And Riddle won't bloody play."

"Riddle?"

"Yeah, he's a splendid Quidditch player too. He'd be perfect as a seeker, has the right built and all. But since he's just so damn busy to be frolicking around with the rest of us playing a mundane sport like Quidditch…" Draco said bitterly, taking gulp after gulp of the drink in his hands.

"Did…did Riddle say anything to you when Hermione told him that you were talking about the date?"

He shook his head. "Just glared at me some. But since that bushy haired witch didn't press the issue with him, he was fine."

"Oh, that's nice, I mean—"

"Wait."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk to you. How many times do I say this?"

Aria made an exaggerated motion with her hands as she leant back on her chair. "Honestly, we were going so fine. Can't you remove that stick up your arse for at least one hour and behave like a decent human being?"

Before he could say anything though, the entrance to Hog's Head banged open, and a jet of red light went flying towards the barkeeper. He crumpled down immediately, even as Draco and Aria jumped to their feet. Draco drew his wand in front of them protectively as two masked men sauntered into the bar.

"Here they are," one said in a jolly tone, moving his wand towards them, "Seems like the information we received was legit."

The other one snorted. "But of course. What reason must he have to lie? It's a good thing they chose Hog's Head and—"

"What is the meaning of this?" Malfoy interrupted, jabbing his wand threateningly. "Why have you come here and who the hell are you?"

"You don't need to know that, Malfoy. Just hand over the girl. We'll leave you alone, since you are, after all, of pure blood."

Aria watched apprehensively as Draco's eyes darted between the two men, and he lowered his wand. "Drac—"

"_Stupefy_!"

The jet of bright, red, light went rushing towards the taller of the two, and he toppled down instantly. The other man turned towards them and shot back, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Both Aria and Draco jumped out of the path of the incoming green light, even as the man shot another series of bright lights towards them, continuously advancing forward. Aria rolled out of the way of a white one that almost, but not quite, grazed past her shoulder.

"There is no escape!" The black-cloaked man thundered angrily, when Draco continued to deflect his spells, "Give up the Mudblood, and we'll let you go!"

"I won't! This is a matter of the Slytherin House's honour!"

"Foolish boy! This transcends beyond petty House games! Let the girl go, and we'll—"

"Now would be a good time to raise your wand, Mudblood!" Draco interrupted, when Aria dodged yet another spell. "Are you a bloody witch or not?"

She scowled while crouching underneath a table which Draco stood next to. "Now would be a good time, I think, to let you know that I can't exactly use magic—oh! Wait!"

"Wha—"

"Use the Protection charm! Quick! It'll give us a head start."

"_Protego_!" Draco complied quickly, stumbling a little when she grabbed his arm and dragged him down to the cellar. Behind them, the masked man was shooting spell after spell at the invisible barrier, screaming, "There's no way out of here apart from the front door! You'll have to give up already!"

"That's what he thinks…" she mumbled, almost pushing Malfoy off the stairs in her hurry. She stopped in front of a painting of a beautiful woman. "Please…! It won't take them long to follow us!"

The woman looked at her for a few moments, before nodding .The portrait door swung open.

"Whaa—"

"Get in!" Aria pushed Draco inside, quickly closing the portrait behind her. And just in time too, as she caught the tail-ends of a black cloak thundering down the stairs haphazardly. "Move, fast!" she ordered, grabbing Malfoy's arm and pulling him along with her. "He probably won't be able to find us—but let's just get back to the castle as fast as possible, yeah?"

She couldn't quite catch what Draco said, but he picked up pace quickly enough, and in the dark, they walked together, panting loudly. Finally: "Where are we going?"

"Room of Requirement."

"The what?"

"Honestly," Aria huffed as the passage inclined upwards, "do you live in the same Hogwarts I do?"

Draco made a sound of indignation, before jerking his arm out of her grip and raising his wand. "_Lumos_. And stop. We need to discuss something."

"What?"

"How do you know of this passage and what do you mean by—can't use magic?"

Aria scowled at him. "Wouldn't a better question be—who the hell were those people and why were they after us?"

"After you, not me. And we know why. It's because you're a Muggleborn."

"Oh, someone give this boy a Nobel Prize; how bloody astute of you, Malfoy. But they weren't exactly unwilling to injure you in the process, were they?"

He frowned at her. "Answer my question first."

"No. Answer mine. Who all knew we were sneaking to Hogsmeade today?"

Draco scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "I only told Pansy, but I'm pretty sure she whined about it to all her dorm mates. Who've probably told everyone?"

"Oh, brilliant, really, telling your girlfriend who's possibly the biggest gossip of this school. Someone from your House informed them that we were in Hogsmeade. We were ripe fruit for plucking, Draco! Two students who had sneaked out and no teacher knew about them either. If they had caught me—they could've used me as bloody blackmail material against the school, or the Ministry, or something." _Not to mention if they broke into my mind, they'd find some really suspicious things there._

"Who would've—"

"Nobody's exactly fond of me in your House."

"That's obviously true, but—"he tightened his grip on his wand "—I was there too. I could've been hurt. What were they thinking?"

"Obviously it was someone who doesn't give a fuck about you," Aria pointed out a little unnecessarily. Then: "Why'd you save me? You could've saved your hide and—"

"—it had nothing to do with you. You were my…_date_. I can't exactly—"

"Good ol' chivalry, yeah? Anyway. Thank you."

Silence. "Why can't you use magic?"

"I'm prohibited."

"What?!"

"I have this bracelet, see?" She yanked up her arm. "It prevents me from doing magic as long as I'm wearing it."

"But why?"

Aria bit her lip. "Why do you care?"

Suddenly, Draco stiffened. "You're right, I don't. Mudblood like you, they should have such a thing on the likes of all of you."

Aria laughed. "You don't mean that, you're just saying it."

"But I do."

"No, you actually called me a witch. You don't think we're beneath you, and anyway, only a hypocrite would think so, after seeing Hermione perform all the brilliant magic."

He scowled at her, but didn't exactly contradict her statement, which made Aria bite back a smile. Together, they continued their journey towards the Room.

"What's a Room of Requirement?"

"You'll see," Aria said cryptically, pointing to the door in front. "Think of something you really, really want. Well, apart from food. The Room provides it."

Draco gave her a sceptical look, but nodded, nevertheless. Aria swung the door open, to find herself in a broom cupboard. She snorted. "Honestly, this is the best thing you could think of?"

Draco shrugged, before looking around the cramped space. "This's bound to be bloody handy."

"I know," she said lightly, turning to him. "What now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to tell anyone that we were attacked?"

"No, are you?"

Aria shook her head. "It's bound to raise unnecessary questions, and to be honest, I'm not interested in answering any of them."

He nodded briskly, "I'm still going to try and find out who the attackers were."

"If there's anything I can do to—"

"Please. You can't even use magic, Fitz."

Aria bristled. "I'll have you know, knowledge is power."

"Yeah, sure, if you're giving a school exam. Anyway," he added a little nervously, "if you're worried about me telling people about the prohibition—I won't."

She couldn't deny the feeling of pleasant surprise. "Thank you, Draco."

"Only because you introduced me to this room."

"Right."

"Right."

"Well, then, I'll leave first?"

"Yeah…Go ahead."

"Okay, um, bye."

"See you round."

"…Thank you for not giving me over to them."

Malfoy snorted. "Just go already, yeah?"

She left, smiling as she did so.

* * *

_(Friday evening: 7.00 pm)_

Lauren McKinnon moved hurriedly towards the Great Hall, trying to catch a glimpse of the tell-tale black hair, or the bangs, or the Slytherin robes, or anything related to a particular witch known as Aria Fitz, really. Her feet rapidly brushed past various students; once, she even ran over a tiny second year, who gave her a reproachful look that Lauren shrugged off guiltily. She was so busy in trying to locate Aria Fitz, that she didn't even notice who had located her until the said person clasped her shoulder in a warn gesture.

Lauren jumped, before turning around to find Cormac smiling at her serenely. The corners of his mouth twitched when he saw her harried expression, but all in all, he looked pretty worried. "Where you rushing off to, McKinnon?"

She discreetly took notice of her surroundings, noted that nobody was really looking at them…but even if they were, she had been called 'McKinnon', and he wasn't showing undue informality that showed they were anything more than acquaintances, and that was alright, yeah? So she chewed her lower lip a bit, looked beneath his elbow to see no Aria, and sighed, "I'm searching for Aria. We haven't seen her since morning, and Ginny reckons she doesn't even know about the meet—Oh! Wait. Terry was…I mean, is, your friend! How're you coping?"

Cormac McLaggen's erstwhile relaxed countenance turned pained. "I'm fine—just bloody fine. I can't believe it, y'know? Terry's in his seventh year with us…If people can attack someone like him, what's protecting the first and second years?"

"I know, I know," Lauren said soothingly, shrugging off his heavy arm on her shoulder, "but he'll be fine. Mark my words, and also, Pomfrey's amazing as it is."

The silence that followed turned awkward, and Cormac smiled at her. "Do you want to come with me to the meeting?"

Quickly, Lauren shook her head, before giving a sigh. "I-I can't. I told you, I'm in charge of finding and locating a certain Slytherin who's been absent since lord knows when."

"Ah, of course," he said, nodding, before leaning forward and whispering into the shell of her ear, "meet me at the Owlery after the meeting."

Lauren stepped back, didn't meet his eyes, but nodded nevertheless, thereby completely missing the grin on his face. For a while, she stood the way she was as she looked at his (fit) body depart the Great Hall, but soon enough, refocused herself and marched purposefully to the Slytherin Table.

Aria Fitz was located at the right end of the spectrum immediately. She was eating alone.

"Where were you?" Lauren demanded in an unnecessarily harsh voice, making Aria turn around with a piece of fudge halfway to her mouth. She dropped the fudge immediately.

"No, where are you guys? I mean, I found none of you here when—"

"Yeah, we ate early. Just follow me, yeah? I've got stuff to discuss…"

To her credit, Aria didn't say anything, but instead, nodded quickly, and shimmied out of the bench, picking up the fallen rucksack. Lauren noted that the edges of her eyes were slightly pinched, as if she had been worried about something.

"Did you hear about that attack?"

The change was instantaneous. Aria flinched and looked at her a bit guiltily, "What attack?"

"The one in the morning."

"Who told you?" she demanded, slowing down a little to allow Lauren to match her long strides. When Lauren had caught up with her, she resumed her steps.

"Every bloody student knows, Aria. Terry's been in the Hospital Wing since morn—"

"Wait. Terry Boot?"

Lauren stared at her. "Yes, Terry. What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing," the witch replied, shaking her head quickly, but there was a frown on her face. "I didn't hear about Terry."

"They found him pretty mangled up in the second floor corridor," Lauren explained quickly as they neared their destination, "and since he's in his seventh year, and hence should have been able to defend himself, McGonagall decided that we have to start patrols along with the prefects."

"What patrols? And who's we?"

They stopped in front of an open door, which admitted them into a vacant classroom that was filled with students in their sixth and seventh years.

"Patrols during the day. A Riddle and Granger initiative, apparently. All those who volunteer get five points each for their House. And, oh—there's Dylan and Ginny."

Lauren rushed towards her dorm-mates, leaving Aria no choice but to follow. "What's the deal with this?" Aria demanded upon reaching them, scanning the room with wide eyes. Every member of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff were present, as were most of the Slytherin's, barring a few. Riddle and Hermione stood on a faux-stage, which was nothing but an expanded desk. Riddle cleared his throat, and spoke in a magically-enhanced voice.

"Quiet, all of you," he ordered, making the whispers die down, "and listen closely. As you all know, a student was attacked today. In order to ensure that this doesn't happen again, we're handing out patrol schedules to all of you, so that during all parts of the day, apart from after curfew; there will be someone in the castle whose job is to look-out for all students, especially the first and second years. You will patrol in pairs, and—"

"—and we've already decided who you're going to be partners with. If there are any complains, approach me or Riddle, but I'm warning you right now, frivolous arguments will not be heeded." Hermione finished in a warning tone. "Under no condition are you allowed to cite a House as a reason for changing your partners. Is that understood?"

When everyone was silent, Riddle nodded and pulled out a parchment. "Once I call your names, please stand next to the person you're partnered with. Firstly, Ronald Weasley and Romilda Vane."

He watched with narrow eyes as Ron shrugged and moved to Romilda, who tossed her hair slightly while smiling at him. "Harry Potter—Hannah Abbott, Neville Longbottom—Luna Lovegood, Lauren McKinnon—Blaise Zabini, Dylan Hanson—MacDougal Morag, Ginny Weasley—Draco Malfoy—"

"That's bloody ridiculous!" Ron shouted, interrupting Riddle. "You can't pair my younger sister with a sna—"

"Quiet, Ron!" Hermione hissed venomously, "Let this be over. Then you can lodge your complaints."

"I second Weasley here, though I never thought this day would come," Draco drawled, shooting Hermione an angry glare, "Why am I paired with the blood traitor?"

"Malfoy…" Riddle said warningly, "It was my decision. And you will abide to it, _properly_!"

Ginny looked confused, but went to stand next to Draco nevertheless, shooting Ron an angry glare that seemed to say: I can make my own decisions, stay out of this.

"Moving on, Seamus Finnegan—Millicent Bulstrode, Dean Thomas—Susan Bones, Pansy Parkinson—Justin Finch Fletchley, Cormac McLaggen—Elizabeth Yaxley—"

And so on, and so forth. Aria busied herself in looking at the reactions of various people: Ginny was furious that Dean had been partnered with Susan Bones instead of her, Parkinson looked annoyed and kept shooting Ginny malicious looks, Seamus looked vaguely disgusted, Neville was looking at a dazed looking Luna apprehensively, Harry was relieved, Ron was furious, Dylan was confused, Lauren was anxious—"

"Emma Macmillan with me, and Hermione with Aria Fitz," Riddle finished, rolling up the parchment and effectively catching Aria's attention. From across the room, Astoria scowled at Emma who smiled victoriously before skipping next to Riddle, who spared her a glance before looking at Aria expectantly. That was when she realized the whole room's attention was on her.

"Oh… Right," she murmured uncomfortably when Pansy snickered. She rushed towards Hermione, who gave her a small smile before facing the room once more.

"And that is all. According to the schedule we have drawn up, all of you will be required to patrol twice a month. Once on a weekday, and once on a weekend. You need not worry about your classes, for the schedule has been pulled up to accommodate them."

"And," Hermione added bossily, "If you have any complaints regarding your partners, you can come to me and Riddle. If any of us receive a legitimate complaint, the person who has been misbehaving loses fifty points from their House. Yes, _fifty_. That is reason enough for you to try and get along, isn't it?"

"I have a complaint." Ron shouted, ignoring Ginny's vexed look.

"No you don't. You can't complain about someone else's partner," Hermione said lightly, smiling at Ginny who looked relieved.

"But—"

Ron was shushed by Harry, who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Right, so, we're done here. Hermione or I will approach you regarding your schedules. You may all leave, since it's almost going to be curfew."

Aria turned to Lauren, Dylan and Ginny, who skipped towards her. "It's awful you got two Slytherin's," she said contemplatively, accompanying them to the door when—

"Fitz, stay back for a moment, please. I need to speak to you." Riddle called out, making a few heads turn curiously. Aria flushed, and waved her friends along, who wiggled their eyebrows suggestively at her. She sighed as she moved to Riddle.

He wasn't even looking at her, but was busy glancing into the parchment in his hand. Once, everyone had departed, he raised his head to meet her eyes.

Aria felt her stomach lurch a little.

"You're an Outcast."

That wasn't what she had expected, so it took a few moments to process. But when it did, she frowned. "What?"

"Draco," Riddle explained patiently, "has decided that you're an Outcast. As a result, you are shunned from mostly every activity concerning the House, to us, you do not exist. This is why you don't need to concern yourself with us at all."

Aria's mouth turned up at the corners. "He made me an Outcast? Oh my gosh, Draco." She said mostly to herself, ignoring the brief emotion that flashed on Riddle's face. "I knew he'd come around, he's not as thick as the rest of them."

Riddle cleared his throat. "That is all."

"Oh, right," she said awkwardly, turning around to the door. Once she touched the handle, she glanced over her shoulder, "It's really for the best, y'know? Your House wouldn't have accepted me, and also, us being mates would've been—"

"Please leave."

"You don't need to be so rude."

"I'm not—you're the one that decreed you don't want to have anything to do with me."

"I slept on it."

"And changed your mind?"

"Not quite… Just…" she paused, staring at the pattern on the door before making a decision. "You were dating Astoria when you tried to seduce me. You were dating Astoria when you cornered me in the storeroom. You were dating Astoria when you—"

"I _am_ dating Astoria," he interrupted, raising one smooth eyebrow at her, making Aria stop.

"You know what? Never mind." She snapped angrily, opening the door and slamming it shut behind her. Once she was outside, she wiped her eyes, feeling incredibly stupid.

* * *

_( Friday night: The Astronomy Tower: 8.06 pm)_

Draco Malfoy rested his head on the stone wall, exhaling the smoke in his mouth into the atmosphere before lifting the cigarette to his mouth once more. Draco Malfoy was thinking rather furiously, he was thinking about how the Mudblood had saved them both in Hogsmeade, she had introduced him to a room that was probably the most interesting part of Hogwarts, and she had even relaxed a little in his company and had tried to talk to him.

Despite that, Draco could find no reason why exactly he had made her an Outcast instead of putting her in Threatened and thereby hastening her departure from Hogwarts. That decision was bound to make him unpopular once everyone found out, and Pansy would _definitely_ be more unbearable than usual.

Draco Malfoy also found that he really didn't give a flying fuck about that. He lifted the half-finished cigarette to his lips again and watched as the smoke formed small rings before darting away into the air. It was such a _Muggle_ thing to do, to smoke, but this was no ordinary Muggle cigarette. On the contrary, this was a magic-made one, one that Zabini and he had been indulging in since his third year that wouldn't make his system rot like the original one's did. He hadn't bothered to tell the two oafs, Crabbe and Goyle, about it.

His thoughts then wandered to why exactly he had done it, and he found no other reason apart from the fact that after escaping someone deadly the way they did, he had somehow formed a bond to her, no matter how much he hated it. He wasn't attracted to her at all, but still, there are some experiences you can't go through without changing your outlook. It didn't mean he still didn't hate her blood of course, but, he pondered thoughtfully, he couldn't be as hateful to her as he was to the other Mudbloods.

His next thought was how he had been paired with the blood-traitor. Honestly, it seemed as if Riddle had some personal vendetta against him. First the Mudblood, and now the Blood-Traitor. And if he lost fifty points by being un-cooperative, his House would definitely start hating him even more.

Draco jerked a little when he heard the sound of footsteps, and raised his eyes to meet the subdued ones of Aria Fitz.

"What do you want?" he asked, not unkindly, glowering at her when she smiled at him and proceeded to sit down next to him easily.

"I wanted to thank you."

"Good, you've thanked me. Now leave."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

It wasn't the same to him, but now he was curious.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh, it's easy, but I won't tell you. You've learnt enough secrets of Hogwart's in one day."

He stared at her for a few moments, absently noting that her hair had escaped from her pony-tail, and that she had deep, brown eyes that seemed almost black in the dark light. She fiddled with the corner of her right sleeve nervously, before looking up to meet his eyes.

"Why'd you change your mind?"

"I don't know."

Surprisingly, she beamed at him. "You're not that bad, y'know, Draco?"

"Yeah, yeah, flattery will get you nowhere."

"That wasn't flattery," she grumbled softly, sighing when he didn't respond. "You really hate me and my kind, don't you?"

"What's there to not hate?" he responded lightly, stubbing out his cigarette on the stone wall next to him. "You outsiders come and taint the blood of generations. Look at Potter. The family line was pure till his father married a ruddy Muggleborn. And now, that's another pureblood gone to waste.

Aria rolled her eyes. "His father loves his mother. Why would he care about blood in a situation like that?"

Draco shrugged, leaning back so that he lay on the floor, his arms cushioning his head. "I don't expect you to understand."

"And I don't. Anyway. It's getting late. I just came here to thank you… for reconsidering. I'd really hate it if I had to leave Hogwarts. Also, isn't it a little strange that two people were attacked on the same day?"

"It's not a coincidence."

"I know, but who would…?" she trailed off suddenly, looking away. Then: "Do try to find out, okay?"

He grunted his acceptance. Thankfully, the Mudblood seemed to realize his reluctance to talk, for she got up and brushed her robes fluidly, before turning on her heel and walking away. There was silence for a few moments, before he heard another pair of footsteps.

"Why's she not in Threatened?"

"Go away, Greengrass."

"I won't bloody go away! She's a Mudblood; she's supposed to be in Threatened so that we can scare her away!"

"It's none of your business, yeah?"

"It is my business!" Astoria all but screamed, taking a few threatening steps forward, "she's all over Riddle all the bloody ti—"

"Oh, so this is about Riddle? Why don't you ask him to override my decision then?"

"You know he won't! This is why I'm asking you to reconsider yours! You'll earn many enemies once this news is public."

"I don't fucking care," he shrugged, still looking up at the stars. His nonchalance seemed to annoy the witch who stood in front of him, for she actually bristled indignantly. Then she crossed her arms.

"I'll owe you one if you change your verdict."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Do you… do you fancy her or something?"

Draco snorted, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "No, I don't actually."

"Then why?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"But you'll have to explain yourself to Pansy, once she finds out."

"No, I don't."

"She's your girlfriend, Draco," Astoria reminded a little haughtily.

"I'm thinking of breaking it off with her anyway."

"What?"

"Just go away, Greengrass. None of your little tricks are going to work here. Go bat your eyelashes at Riddle, or something, and work harder to keep him with you, yeah? He seems mighty uninterested in you nowadays."

"Tom loves me," she said forcefully, jabbing a finger at him, "and he'll never leave me. You and I both know that."

"Do we really? Tell me, Greengrass, has he really said that to you?" Draco asked slyly, propping himself up so that he was now in seating position, "or are you making this up as you go?"

She looked taken aback, for she blinked for a few moments, before glowering at him, and walking away angrily. Draco laid back on the floor, pulling out another cigarette from his pocket. It was a pity she was so bloody shrill, for she was rather good-looking. He frowned at that thought, for so was the Weasley, or even the Macmillan girl. Draco lit his cigarette thoughtfully, thinking about Astoria Greengrass as he did so.

**A/N: AAAAND another chapter finished. There's not much of Aria-Riddle here, but there's heaps of plot development. I hope the large numbers of characters aren't making you nervous. They all have a role to play in this, honestly. Also, since most of them are canon, it should be quite alright.**

**Though we do see Aria's Slytherin side and that too, we see it twice. *smirks***

**I hope the Ron and Ginny scene wasn't as similar as it was to the original storyline, but I swear I avoided the book while writing it to make it as genuine as possible. Also, I couldn't resist Hermione's 'Levoisa' comment. It's too funny, and we all know how bloody inept Lockhart is.**

**And. A reviewer asked what Tom is doing in the future. I'm not sure if I wasn't able to explain it properly or something, but I thought it was clear. **

**She went back in time and killed him, so there was a time rift. Once she comes back, the changes signify not only that people are unaffected by the phenomenon known as Voldemort, but there is also a Tom Riddle whose born 50 years after the original timeline. **

**Reviews are a writer's heaven. Especially since I wrote almost 11,000 words. **

**Cheers.**


	8. Chapter 8

As November rolled in with a downpour of rain, several things of note happened.

Quidditch season began.

and more importantly, Terry Boot was released from the Hospital Wing and terrorizing reign of Madam Pomfrey, and Dylan went to meet him.

* * *

"Hey Terry, how're you feeling?" Dylan Hanson said nervously, smiling at the elder boy when he turned around to look at her. In general, almost all the surrounding Ravenclaw's turned to look at her when she approached their table. From across the table, Morag MacDougal cleared his throat rather dramatically, and Luna Lovegood peered at him strangely.

"Are you being targeted by nargles?"

"Shut up, Loony."

Luna Lovegood smiled dreamily at that, turning back to the plate in front of her.

Terry coughed, drawing Dylan's attention back to him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm all perfect now."

"That's great."

He nodded.

In the lull that followed, in which neither of them knew what exactly to say, Padma Patil threw her hair around haughtily. "Well, did you want something?"

"Um… _Maybe_?" Dylan turned to Terry. "Look, can I speak to you for a minute? Privately?"

His mates let out an amused and suggestive sound, causing the back of Dylan's ears to burn. Anthony Goldstein actually whooped loudly. But then again, she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, was she? "Accompany me outside the Hall?"

"Oh… Yeah. Of course. Let's go. I'll be back in a minute, y'all."

He followed her quietly outside the doors. Upon being out of eavesdropping ears, Dylan fidgeted a little, before stopping underneath an alcove near the Entrance. Terry stared at her the whole while, making her feel quite disconcerted.

"You know who I am, right?"

He laughed at that, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows. "I wouldn't have followed you if I didn't."

"Well—yeah. Good point, really. I'm just—I thought about it a lot—and I decided—best way would simply be to ask—because honestly, it'll be weird—I'm sure you know why I'm here by now anyway—or maybe you don't—he might not have told you—if he hasn't—twat that he is, he probably hasn't—and I thought and thought and thought, and—"

Terry raised one hand, effectively stopping her rambling. "Dylan, relax. Whatever it is you want to say, just say it, yeah? I really have no clue what you're talking about."

He looked at her earnestly, that Dylan had to step back a bit. Then she groaned: "Oh, fuck, I don't want you to have the wrong idea!" He appeared confused, so Dylan tried to elaborate. "I mean, I don't… I don't fancy you, okay? I just… well, I just… I came to ask if…" She gulped audibly and flirted with the collar of her shirt. "Do you reckon you're over me yet?"

Terry seemed so incredulous that Dylan let out a bark of laughter. "I know… How insensitive of me, right? It's just that there's this bloke I really, really like, and he really, really likes me back, and he said that we can't make it public because you're his really good mate, and you fancy me… And I don't know! This is so bloody meta, it's driving me nuts!" she huffed at the end, crossing her arms over her (generous) rack. She chanced a glance at the speechless Boot.

He looked surprised, mostly.

"You still there?" she asked, when he didn't say anything for a long time. "I know I sprung this on you—you're probably embarrassed, and I—"

"Dylan, stop." He said suddenly, with authority born of being a ruddy prefect. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dylan deflated. "You—you don't fancy me?"

He shook his head, and she groaned, burying her face into her hands. "Fuck. This has to be the most mortifying moment of my life! I don't know what he was thinking!"

"Who is _he_?"

"I can't exactly—I mean, you'll find out. Once I talk to him."

"I don't envy that bloke, right now. You sound furious."

"Well, of course, I mean, I basically assaulted you like that—and the information I had was completely wrong—how bloody embarrassing!"

Terry smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Look, think nothing of it, yeah?" he said comfortingly, "we all make mistakes. And it's the bloke's fault anyway. How can he be a mate of mine and not know that I fancy Lau—"

"Lauren?" Dylan caught quickly, peeking at him from between her fingers, "you fancy Lauren?"

He became sheepish. "Well, yeah, just don't—don't tell her, okay? Not yet, anyway."

"Why not? She's single; you're single, go for it!"

"I don't—I mean, she barely knows me. She probably doesn't even know I exist!"

"Of course she knows you exist! After the accident, there're probably very few people who don't know you—that's insensitive. I should stop."

He chuckled. "No, it's quite alright. You're right, anyhow. The whole thing's been pretty public…"

"Did you… I mean, do you have any idea who-?"

Quickly, he shook his head. "Not really, I was attacked from behind. It was definitely some coward."

Dylan sighed. "The whole point is, you're better now, and you should definitely ask my best friend out on a date. She'd be delighted. And Hogsmeade is coming up anyway."

Terry scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah, I'll see. Maybe."

"Right," suddenly she felt awkward. "I'll talk to you later then? And I'm sorry about the whole fancying crap. I just had the wrong information and I'm going to kill him."

"Don't be. At least we interacted for the first time."

"Not true. I pushed you off the stands once while cheering for a match."

"Oh, Merlin, you remember that? That was in second year! I got so much flak for that, since I was knocked off my seat by an overenthusiastic Gryffindor first year."

Dylan laughed. "Good times, my friend, good times."

* * *

"I am not following him outside in the rain, Ginny, please go bug someone else."

Ginny Weasley smiled winningly at the witch in front of her, and proffered the box of sweets in her hands. "Come on, Hermione, it's just a little talk!" The Head Girl looked at the box of chocolate frogs sceptically, so Ginny tried to butter her up. "I mean, he'll listen to you—you're the voice of reason and everyone knows that. And also, Ron's been nothing but horrid to you since the first five years, and we can see he's trying to make amends—just talk to him! That's all I'm asking."

Hermione looked mighty appeased at that, but persisted in being difficult. "You're trying to bribe me with chocolate frogs, Ginny."

"And Pumpkin Pasties."

"And Pumpkin Pasties," Hermione repeated dully.

"Did I also tell you that I would throw in the new quill from Schrivenscraft's as a token of faith?"

"The one whose ink never leaks?"

"That's the one," Ginny said with a wide smile that hurt her jaw, "and also, you'd have my undying gratitude, of course."

"Yes, your undying gratitude means so much to me," Hermione said dryly, taking the box from Ginny's hands and examining it critically. "I promise nothing, by the way. He might, or might not see reason."

"All I'm asking is that you try."

The Head Girl sighed. "I don't even know why I'm mates with you. You ask me for the weirdest things—like ordering things from your brother on the sly, or allowing you those ridiculous after-parties. And now you want me to convince Ron to see sense of you and Dean."

"He's being ridiculous, Hermione. Someone has to force his thick head to understand that he's wrong."

"And I'm the right person for the job?"

"But of course!" Ginny exclaimed in a saccharine, sweet voice, "Everybody loves Hermione Granger."

Even Hermione's dubious look didn't force a blush to rise on Ginny's cheeks. Instead, the redhead beamed winningly, "So. You'll do it?"

The Head Girl was in the last stages of her protest. "But it's raining cats and dogs outside!"

"It can't rain cats and dogs, Hermione. It only rains water."

Hermione stared at her.

"Right. Muggle euphemism. Okay. You're a witch. Do some fancy wand-waving and create a barrier or something—come on, Hermione. I'll owe you one."

The witch sighed before thrusting the box of sweets back in Ginny's hands. "I'm going after him; keep this with you till then. I don't want it to get wet." With that, she turned on her heel and marched out of the castle, muttering a spell that would deflect water from her. Outside, Hermione could just faintly make out the outline of a brooding Ronald Weasley. Quickly, she walked upto him, avoiding the areas of sludge. He was soaked from head to toe, red hair plastered to his forehead. He started upon seeing her.

"Hermione?"

"Hello, Ron."

"What're you doing here? You'll catch—oh. Handy charm work, there."

Hermione smiled at him, waving her wand so that he too had a protective barrier around him. "Charms 101…"

At Ron's confused look, she hastened to elaborate. "It's a Muggle thing… Actually, don't mind it. It's nothing of importance."

Ron shrugged. "So, why are you out here?"

"Oh, I'm enjoying the weather."

"You like the rain?"

Hermione crinkled her nose ever so slightly. "I like it when I'm inside, curled up with a cup of coffee. Otherwise, no. It makes everything dirty."

"Then why are you outside?"

"I… Well, Ginny wanted me to talk to you," she admitted, raising her hand to ask him to not say anything as she continued, "and she bribed me with a quill. It was rather hard to resist."

Ron snorted. "Only you with be bribed by something as asinine as a quill. Listen, I'll give you two quills to keep your mouth shut."

"I am a Gryffindor, Ron. We pride ourselves on loyalty."

"I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say."

"I know, I know," she sighed, before bending down to occupy the empty place next to the redhead. "I can sort of understand where you're coming from, of course. But only slightly. After all, it is rather hypocritical to judge your sister like that. What if Dean is the one for her? Would it rest well on your conscience that you were the reason your sister is unhappy?"

Ron stared at her. "Bloody hell, you're good at making people feel guilty."

Hermione smiled shyly, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers before exhaling softly. "Love makes even the most sane of men go wonky, Ron. You love your sister, and you're protective of her. But ultimately, you have to let go. She's your baby sister, and you feel defensive since even Fred and George have graduated and there's no one to keep an eye on her apart from you, but look at it from her perspective. She needs to go through a few flings before deciding the bloke for her. You can't stop her from doing that, can you?"

Ron looked at her with an entirely new perspective. Before the conversation, he had known Hermione Granger was a force to be reckoned with. Now, he knew that Hermione Granger was THE force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to him. He was in no position to deny her when she made those eyes at him.

"I—"his voice was gruff as he tried to articulate properly, "I'll try to get over it. I make no promises though!" he added hastily when Hermione beamed at him.

"Thank you so much! Now I can at least eat the frogs in peace."

"She's giving you sweets too?"

Hermione gave a very sly smile. "Oh, didn't I mention that before?"

"Not quite," he grumbled irritably, "six years I've known you and this comes as a surprise. What are you and what have you done with my Hermione?"

Hermione raised one amused brow, before settling back so that she leaned into a more comfortable pose. "My Hermione?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't actually."

"Well—"Ron scratched his head, or attempted to, at least. It was hard since his hair was wet, "All those years you were being prim and proper on purpose? What is the real Granger?"

"The real Granger… You've never tried finding out, have you?"

Uncomfortably: "I don't think so. I'd like to, though."

Once again, Hermione gave him a smile before stretching her arms. "The real Hermione… Well. I like books. _Don't_ laugh. I've had my fair share of rule-breaking—I know, gasp, and all that—I like pranks to a degree… As long as nobody gets hurt. I find makeup annoying, but useful… I think that being a girl is lot more than being beautiful. It's also—_existing_…and being nice—"

"Existing?"

"You're laughing at me!" she accused in a faux indignant tone, crossing her arms and throwing her nose in the air when he continued to do so. "I'll have you know, the real Hermione? You'll never find her if you continue being—oi, stop laughing! Prat."

"Prig," he said just as easily, ignoring the evil eye being directed his way. "Okay, okay, no more laughing. Continue, please."

"No."

"What? Come _on_, Granger!"

"Nuh-uh. You have insulted my feminine sensibilities!" Then at his look of doubt: "You aren't helping your cause here by being so sceptical."

"I'll tell you if you promise to not curse me."

"I won't."

"Right."

"No! I'm giving you my word. As Head Girl, and all that."

Ron shot a doubtful look her way, but answered, nevertheless. "Look, I respect you for being the no-nonsense types, trust me. It's just that…sometimes, it's good to let that feminine side of yours out of the bag too, y'know? Live a little. Get drunk, snog a bloke, have a blast. That types."

"Are you volunteering?"

"What?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Are you volunteering to be my snog buddy?"

Ron leaned back a little, surprised. Then, more easily than he felt: "You should reserve judgement until you're drunk. Hey. Let's get you drunk! At the party after we win!"

Hermione frowned. "But I'm Head Girl… I—"

"What did I say about living a little?"

Flushing, she let out a small sigh. "You'll have to promise to take care of me though. Make sure I don't do something I'd regret."

"Is there anything you wouldn't regret doing when you're drunk?"

"Fair point."

"Thank you."

"—But, you'll have to take care of me. I mean it. Don't… Don't let me become a tart. Don't let me snog someone like… like I don't know—Malfoy?"

Ron snorted, "Malfoy isn't invited to our parties. He's too much of a tosser. And he hates Harry anyway. I give you my word, Hermione. In fact, tell you what, I won't be the one drinking at all. It's all you."

"But then I'll be spoiling the party for you!"

"I resent the fact that you think one needs to be drunk in order to have fun. The only reason we're getting you drunk is so that you lose your priggish ways."

"I don't have priggish ways."

"Hermione…."

She sniffed delicately. "You know what? FINE. Fine. I'll do it. But you'll have to stop bugging Ginny and work towards winning the Quidditch Cup, and stop making Harry feel bad during practises."

"Very astute of you to make such demands," Ron said a little irritably, but then brightened. "Of course it's all worth it if I can get the great Hermione Granger sloshed."

"The Great Hermione Granger?"

"GHG, for short."

"… I don't even want to know now."

He smirked as if to say '_it's best if you don't'_. In the lull that followed, the thoughts of the two went rampant.

Hermione Granger thought about the conversation, wondering how it was that the two of them could actually talk civilly without going for each other's throats.

Ron Weasley thought that he liked to make her smile. (Just a little.)

* * *

"Welcome, welcome all to the first match of the season! GRYFFINDOR VERSUS HUFFLEPUFF!" The commentator shouted loudly, making Aria wince at the decibel of his voice. "Aaaaaaand now, Captains shake hands! From Gryffindor, we have HARRY POTTER, Seeker extraordinaire and from Hufflepuff, we have RICK FRIEDMAN, Keeper extraordinaire. They've shaken hands, and Madam Hooch has blown the whistle… And they're off!"

The commentary was interrupted by a loud cheer from Gryffindor House. A charmed lion banner roared uproariously, adding to the atmosphere. "Gryffindor in possession. Weasley—to Robins—ooh, watch that bludger, Ginny—she swerved! Robins still in possession, and she's belting along up there, a neat pass to MacDonald, last year only a reserve—back to Weasley, and—no, Hufflepuff have taken the quaffle, Janson in possession and off he goes—flying like an eagle—and he's about to sc—no, stopped by Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley and Gryffindor takes the quaffle—that's Chaser Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor there, an excellent dive, off up the field—"

Aria attempted to drown him out by turning towards Hermione who was cheering loudly, "Who do you think will win?"

"We have the best team so far. And the best Seeker, to boot."

"—GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the air, with howls and moans from the Hufflepuffs.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Cormac!" Dylan shouted eagerly, scooting aside to let him take the seat next to her. Then, so quietly that Aria almost missed it: "We need to talk."

In the same tone, he replied, "Bout what?"

"I spoke to Terry."

Was it just Aria's imagination, or did the colour drop from McLaggen's cheeks? He suddenly shifted a bit so that he was angled away from Dylan. Lauren, Aria noticed, was watching him from the corner of her eye. Hermione seemed oblivious.

"Good haul, this year."

"Yeah, it's a brilliant team."

"I would've been better as Keepe—"

"No, you would not!" Hermione snapped, interrupting McLaggen while glaring at him angrily. "Ron's a wonderful Keeper."

"The only reason he was selected was because Potter is mates wi—"

Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at McLaggen who stiffened imperceptibly. "Not another word out of your mouth."

"Come now, Granger, why the hostility?" said Cormac in a faux-placating tone, not noticing that Hermione was getting angrier by the minute. "We're all mates here."

"No, we aren't actually."

"—POTTER HAS SEEN THE SNITCH!"

The argument came to an abrupt halt as all of them swivelled towards where Harry was diving to the ground, followed by Hufflepuff's Seeker who was behind him. Neck to neck, they hurtled down—all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung mid-air to watch. Harry was faster than the other Seeker—he darted ahead—and then, suddenly, there was a loud roar from the Gryffindor section as people burst out cheering.

"And Potter catches the snitch! GRYFFINDOR WINS! 200-60!"

There were more shouts and whoops, and Aria was grabbed into a hug by an overenthusiastic Hermione who was jumping up and down. Even though it wasn't her House, the excitement was tangible. Together, they hurtled towards the pitch, and congratulated the whole team. Aria was swept into yet another hug, this time by Harry who patted her head when he released her and gave her a wide smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione congratulating Ron, who was shuffling his feet awkwardly with the tips of his ears red—and then suddenly, Harry grabbed Ginny into a sweeping hug.

Ginny could feel the butterflies building up in her stomach as she hugged him back, trying to keep it from being awkward by patting his back. "Brilliant seeking there, Harry!" she said a little breathlessly, avoiding Harry's eyes who too suddenly became a little fidgety.

"Yeah, brilliant chasing by you too." He said, and Aria beamed at both of them.

Both Hermione and Ginny stepped back—and then the Head Girl went to hug her, "Ginny, you were brilliant!"

"Congratulations, Potter." Tom Riddle's smooth voice came out of nowhere, making Aria jump a little as she turned around to catch Riddle with his arm draped lazily across Astoria's shoulder. "But Slytherin will still win House Cup."

Harry surprisingly smiled. "We'll see, Riddle, we'll see. I'm not going to go easy on you this year."

"Throwing a celebratory party, then?"

"Of course. You're welcome to it, obviously."

Riddle nodded at Harry, before turning to the rest of them. "Have a nice day, then."

Aria's cheeks turned a little pink when his gaze landed on her, but he didn't exactly say anything as he walked back up to the castle.

"He looks so good today!" Dylan suddenly said, earning snorts of disbelief from the boys and knowing smiles from the girls. "He should really keep his hair messy."

"Maybe you should tell him that."

"Come on, you all. Peakes' has probably decorated the Common Room for the party," Ron interrupted, throwing a lazy arm around Hermione who squeaked before turning a little pink. Aria hid her knowing smile as Amy gaped at the two. Ginny seemed amused, mostly, as if she knew something they didn't. On their way to the castle, Dean rushed forward to grab Ginny and twirl her around, and planted one on her mouth, but Ron didn't say anything as he trudged past them, earning baffled glances from everyone. Harry smiled with a bit of confusion in his eyes, but was mostly relieved.

One hour later, Aria found herself in the familiar Common Room, nursing a bottle of butterbeer in her hands as she loitered near the food stand. Hermione was in earnest conversation with Ron and Harry about something, and almost everyone was trashed despite the fact that it was barely eight. Ginny was dancing quite ubiquitously in the centre with Dean, Dylan was nowhere to be found, but she spied Lauren sitting alone in the corner. So she made her (unsteady) way towards her.

"Where's Dylan?"

"Upstairs."

"Why?"

"Dunno."

Aria snorted. "We're quite the monosyllabic pair, aren't we? I'm going to check up on her. Reckon I'll be allowed up the stairs?"

Lauren shrugged. "You _are_ a girl. _Maybe_."

"Oh_, ha, ha_, how bloody hilarious of you."

So Aria walked towards the dorms she had once called her own, ignoring the raucous cheers by various party members. On the last step, she spotted Riddle entering with Zabini. He was immediately accosted by an impeccably made up Emma Macmillan who said something to the two of them happily, before drawing them away to the food. Zabini had a crease on his forehead the whole time. Shrugging, Aria stepped into the sixth year dorm.

"—you lied to me!"

"No, I didn't honey, I swear. I actually thought it was you he liked and not your friend!"

The voices belonged to Dylan and a male she was sure she had heard of before. Aria stepped over a hand brush lying on the ground to peer into the room. Her eyes widened when she took in Cormac's form along with Dylan. They were both on her bed, Dylan's hands were wrapped around her knees which she hugged to her chest, and Cormac was on his knees, hands on either side of her head as he looked at her anxiously.

"Babe—"he began again, but Aria felt she must interrupt. So she did. She coughed.

The couple's heads swivelled towards her, making her flush slightly before shrugging. "I didn't—I came for Dylan."

"Aria!" The girl in question exclaimed, almost leaping off the bed as she scooted away from Cormac. Comically, her eyes flitted between the two of them before she sighed and spread her arms. "You know what; this is _exactly_ what it looks like!"

Some of the tension in the room dissipated as Aria let out a laugh that wasn't too forced. "I figured. How long?"

"One month, give or take."

"Why haven't you told people yet?"

Dylan glanced at her boyfriend. "Well, this idiot totally thought one of his friends was in love with me, and he had to honour the bro-code."

"It's not that!"

"Oh, then what is it?" Dylan demanded, placing her hands on her hips furiously. Cormac sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, and that action reminded Aria of Riddle so much she almost choked on her drink.

"I-I have commitment issues."

Together: "_What_?"

Aria looked at Dylan guiltily. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—"

She was waved away. "It's fine. Natural reaction." Again, she glanced at her boyfriend. "Look, do you mind not telling anyone about us… yet? I need to talk to him first—"here she frowned "—I'll let you know tomorrow morning."

"Of course."

Aria walked away.

* * *

"Harry!" Ron called brightly, pulling the reluctant witch along with him, "I need a special batch of firewhiskey."

Harry turned slightly upon hearing his best mate's voice, only to raise one brow on seeing just who accompanied him. "I see. Who is it you require it for?"

"Hermione."

Hermione hid her face in her hands from behind Ron, "I know, I'm Head Girl and I shouldn't be getting drunk but we had a deal and—"

"Stop rambling," Ron interrupted cheerfully, grabbing the glass from Harry's hand when he didn't move. He ignored Harry's grumbling in favour of pushing the glass towards the Head Girl. Said Head Girl stared suspiciously before rubbing her eyes almost worriedly.

"I'll be fine?"

"I promise you will be."

"As do I," Harry added. He was quite interested in seeing where this would be going—Ron and Hermione getting along in a friendly manner? Who knew, miracles do happen.

"I—I just—"

"Just drink up, Hermione, come on. It won't be that bad, I assure you."

She wrinkled her nose, but complied anyway. The burning feeling didn't make her gag, which made Harry quite suspicious. "You've drank this before!" he accused in a surprised tone, "and definitely more than once."

The Head Girl sniffed indignantly. "Of course I've drank this before! Just not to an unwanted extent."

"She's never quite been stoned, mate," Ron explained in that same cheerful tone, dragging his best friend and the witch along with him to the table where the drinks were situated. "You might wanna try one of this, Hermione, its brilliant."

"Wha—"

Ron pushed a glass in her hands before she could formulate a suitable argument. "Drink up! Then we're going to dance."

"I don't—"

Hermione's protests were waved away with practised ease.

The next one hour found her grinding her hips to a saucy tune she was sure she had never heard before. Her head felt somewhat light, her feet were woozy, her clothes were all over the place, and Hermione had never had so much fun. Sometime during the night, her fingers had threaded themselves together with Ron's, and none of them had let go since then. Even now, in between the sweaty, gyrating throng, their hands were joined together, she was laughing, and he was grinning along.

"You know w-what I think?" she asked in a slurred tone, leaning closer so that he could hear her over the loud noise. Her free hand rested on his chest automatically, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I think you're a little drunk too!"

Ron's other hand grabbed the one she had placed on his chest, and brought it close to his heart. She could hear his heart beat steadily, even over the vibrations on the dance floor. "Drunk and still so smart. You are the most incredible bird I've ever met, Hermione."

Colour made its way to her cheeks even as she pouted. "I'm s-sure you say that to a-all girls!"

"Nah, it's just you."

She let out an embarrassingly loud hiccup, but somehow, there was no embarrassment to be felt. It just seemed normal, to be out here with him, to laugh with him, to hear him laugh.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked in a concerned tone when she wobbled slightly, and Hermione gratefully squeezed his fingers. Taking that as an approval, he grabbed her tightly and brought her to a secluded corner. "You feel alright?"

"I feel wonderful!" she half-shouted, catching the attention of half the people in the room. Then, in a loud whisper that wasn't really much helpful: "I feel really, really, wonderful."

"I'm glad."

The words made her glad too. Then suddenly, the world twisted as she stepped out of his hold, and she wobbled a bit before straightening herself. "You reckon H-Harry's retired?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know!" Hermione giggled. She leaned forward so that his breath fanned her face. "I t-think… I t-think I asked to m-make you a little jealous… Y-you're always jealous when m-me and Harry talk! You d-don't need to be, by the way."

If she wasn't so sloshed, she would've recognized the stiffening posture and backed off, muttering a few apologies. But since there was liquid courage strumming through her veins, it was rather hard to muster a coherent thought that made sense.

"O-or, you're a-angry he speaks t-to me, because y-you don't like me much. N-not since first year when we w-were paired tog-gether and I was—I was such a k-know it all!"

"You're not."

"N-not what?"

"A know-it-all!"

"B-but I am, silly! That's w-what everyone calls me!" she smacked his chest lightly as if to emphasize her point.

Ron frowned. "No. No, whoever thinks that is an idiot. You are amazing, and don't let a few stupid people bring you down. You happen to be the _most_ respected girl of this school—even the Slytherin's respect you, even if they don't show it. It's because you always just so _right_, Hermione. Always being this—this _beacon_ that shows us the difference between right and wrong, light and dark—and you, and I, I'm just a little _jealous_. _Always_ have been. You've always been brilliant, never calling me out on my rude comments, always being there for everyone—and you're a _wonderful_ Head Girl too."

Hermione's mouth popped as she let out a small 'oh'. Then she shrugged drunkenly. "Come on, let's dance."

They danced.

* * *

Emma Macmillan tossed her hair flirtatiously, before giving Tom her most 'come hither' look, appearing completely unfazed by the fact that he stood next to two more girls. Said girls gave her the most hateful look that they could probably muster, but Emma ignored them. "When do we have patrol, Tom? I've been looking forward to it."

Tom looked up from the drink in his hand, "I'm not sure. But soon enough, I gather. Whenever we have a free period off the same time, I suppose."

"Oh, Tom, I'm sure you won't find a free period at all! You have so many classes!" Lavender Brown breathed in a raspy tone, and then licked her lips in a decidedly sultry manner. Next to her, Parvati Patil giggled shamelessly, appearing quite oblivious to the annoyed look being sent her way by Emma.

Before Tom could reply, Emma cut in, "Where's Astoria?"

"We broke up."

Three pairs of voices simultaneously exclaimed: "What?!"

"—but you were with her during the match! Do you mean you broke up just now?"

Tom shrugged, looking effortlessly hot, "Yes. Yes, we just broke up."

"Why?"

"It's probably a personal reason, Parvati, let him be!" Emma berated the elder girl in a superior tone, taking Riddle's vacant arm and winked at him. "Excuse us, ladies. We have some talk to do!" she said loudly, steering Riddle away from the two into an empty corner. Once there, she dropped his hand and leaned against the wall, one leg propped up as she glanced at the Head Boy curiously.

"You can thank me now."

He laughed. "Of course_. Thank you_, Miss Macmillan."

"Honestly speaking though, you shouldn't have told those two. They are the biggest gossips all around. It's probably being spread all over the school as we speak."

"I thank you for your concern, but it doesn't really matter. They were bound to find out sometime and almost the whole of Slytherin already knows."

"Public break-up?"

"Not on my terms, I guarantee you." He lifted his glass to his lips, all the while keeping his eyes locked with hers, "and she started screaming. So I decided to get away for a bit. Potter was nice enough to invite me."

"Potter always invites you. You—you aren't like the rest of them, you know? Despite being Heir of Slytherin and all… I really can't put you in the prejudiced category."

He made a great show of shrugging it off, but Emma noticed he was pleased. Men of his stature were always pleased when told that they were nothing like the mindless idiots around them. "That's a dangerous game you're playing."

Emma placed one cool hand over his right arm, leaning forward. "I'm a dangerous girl."

His eyes roved over her form for a moment, before settling on her face. Emma found that she didn't mind, of course. This was Tom Riddle they were talking about.

"I assure you, this is nothing like what you've seen before."

"Why? Because you're the big, bad Slytherin who dabbles only in purebloods?"

"Maybe…" Casually, he placed one hand over the one she had placed on his arm, and pulled it off him. Emma pouted, but brightened when he didn't step back from their rather close position. "And maybe not. Like you said, who says I'm only looking for a pureblood?"

She gave him an amused look before breathing into his ear, "But me being a pureblood helps, does it not?"

"It does," he admitted in a similarly low tone, grabbing her vacant arm to pull her more forward so that their noses almost touched. "I'm not looking for a commitment right now."

"I don't mind. I've never been a big fan of commitment anyway."

Their lips met in the dark, her toes curled in pleasure and her hands moved to his soft hair. There was a loud thud as the glass in his hand dropped, and he grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him. For a moment, as they kissed, sparks flew and fireworks exploded, at least in Emma's mind, but it was over all too soon when he stepped up, and his lips moved to her ear. "This just might be a onetime thing for me."

"You'll come around," she breathed right back, confident of her abilities as a woman. "I'll use my charm, and you'll fall flat."

Shivers racked her body as he chuckled, a deep-throated chuckle in that deep, deep voice of his. "Quite confident, are we not?"

"Astoria was never right for you."

"No," he admitted, still in that husky voice that made goosebumps rise on her arms, "she wasn't."

"She lacked the passion you needed."

"You presume too much."

"On the contrary, I presume just right," Emma shot back, curling her fingers around his arms as she lessened the distance between them once more. In that moment, something flashed across his eyes, something that spoke of someone else being in the same position they were in, and Emma realized with anger that he had stopped focussing on her as soon as she had done that. Her hand dropped and his face cleared. "You aren't even interested in this!" she accused in a shaky voice, running her fingers through her hair in frustration, messing up the hairdo she took ages to perfect. "You're thinking of someone else!"

"Maybe," was the cryptic answer she got, and in that moment, she regained control once again.

"Well, we'll just have to right that, don't we?"

She pressed her lips against his once more, secure in the knowledge that he would respond, damn whoever was running through his mind, and she wasn't disappointed. This was _familiar_ territory. _This_ was something she had done many times. Her kisses had brought many boys… _men_, even, falling to her feet. Who was Tom Riddle to resist?

It surprised her immensely when he broke the kiss again, retracting his steps so that he stepped back. "I just broke up tonight. I don't think Astoria deserves this."

She complied when he extended his hand, and threaded her fingers through his, but inside, she was seething. It wasn't because of Astoria at all. It was something else, and Emma Macmillan wanted desperately to know what that something else was. He pulled her forward towards a group of seventh years, and between the way, dropped her hand. She brought her arms to her chest angrily, crossing them as she glared at the back of his head.

"Potter," Tom greeted with a nod, "brilliant party."

Harry nodded, and next to him, Seamus smirked at Emma, evidently having seen the display back then. She winked back at him, forcing the rising ire in her chest down.

"Gryffindor's parties are legendary." Seamus said, still looking at her as he did so. Her hands fisted at the amusement in his eyes, but she kept her quiet. Tom had apparently noticed the exchange, for he glanced at the two of them curiously before replying.

"I still don't know where all this food comes from."

"The kitchens, obviously."

"I _knew_ that. But doesn't Filch catch you smuggling in so much?"

Harry and Seamus shared an amused glance, and then Harry shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about. Filch is _never_ a problem."

"You're hiding something," Tom said casually, plucking a glass of firewhiskey from the nearby table before proffering it to Emma, who declined with a slight shake of her head. He then proceeded to drink up.

"Macmillan, enjoying the party?" Harry asked, ignoring Tom's statement and she gave him a winning smile.

"Of course. It's amazing."

"Oh, there…. There's Aria—Aria!" Harry called out suddenly, waving to a black haired witch in Slytherin robes. Emma eyed her curiously—yet another one of those types. The one's who never bothered to change out of their robes for a party. What part of the sentence 'it's a party' did they not comprehend?

Aria looked to be deep in thought, because she flinched upon hearing Harry's voice. Her eyes were clear—she was definitely one of the few left who wasn't stoned yet. "Harry," she greeted cheerfully, "Riddle, Seamus…and—"

"Emma. Emma Macmillan."

Aria nodded. "Aria Fitz."

"She's in your year," Seamus said with a small smile towards the younger girl, who smiled right back at him. Tom, Emma noticed, was peering at Aria over the rim of his glass, a calculating look in his eyes. Emma decided she didn't like the look.

"That's great," Emma said in a bored tone, trying to convey her eagerness to move away from the lot to Tom. Tom, however, did not catch it, and if he did, made no indication of it.

"Fitz," he drawled, eyes still locked with Aria's.

"Riddle."

"Where's Astoria?"

"We broke up."

Aria jerked a little, evidently surprised, as did Harry and Seamus. Then: "I'm sorry to hear of it."

"Don't be. You know I'm not."

Once again, Aria seemed distracted, as if she was mentally far away from the conversation. Emma noticed with rapt interest as light smattering of pink coloured her cheeks, and to her surprise, Tom seemed triumphant. What was the connection between the two, apart from the fact that they were in the same House?

"Yes. Yes. I know. Anyone else from our House here?"

"Zabini. And Beaumont."

"That's nice."

Tom hummed in response, and suddenly, Emma realized that it didn't even matter to the two of them that she, Harry and Seamus were standing right next to them. They continued on regardless, playing some sort of game that only the two of them knew. Aria bit her lip anxiously as the smile on Tom's face kept widening. Emma decided to intervene.

"So, Aria," she asked, linking her arms with the Slytherin to smile at her wolfishly, "who are your mates? You must forgive me, I haven't quite seen you with any of the Slytherin's yet."

Aria blinked at her for a few moments, before sighing. "I don't have any mates in Slytherin. I'm… I'm a Muggleborn."

Before Emma could respond, Tom spoke: "What about Draco?"

Aria suddenly became tense, if the muscles in her arm were any indication. "What about him?" she asked defensively, glaring at the Head Boy hatefully.

"You are mates with him, are you not?"

"I—no. No. We're merely acquaintances."

"He will be sorry to hear of it."

"No, he will not!" Aria snapped furiously, trembling a little. This time, Harry intervened.

"You spoke to Malfoy?"

Aria seemed to deflate. "No, not quite. He just did me a favour, and then told me to steer clear of him."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did he do you a favour? He hates Muggleborns."

"Yeah," Seamus interjected, "in fact, he constantly curses them."

Tom watched the scene unfold with amused eyes, and Emma realized that this was what he wanted all along. His eyes hadn't lost the calculating look at all. Aria seemed to know of this too, for she glared at him with wrath, before smiling at Harry.

"I did him a favour first. And he… he didn't want to be in my debt, I guess."

Emma would've paid money to know what exactly Aria had done for the blonde Slytherin, but Harry didn't press her. Once again, she wondered what connection Aria had to the lot of them. What had she done to gain their trust so easily? After all, she was new, wasn't she?

"Why did you join Hogwarts so late, Aria?" Emma asked in a light tone, glancing at Tom to find approval directed towards her. She squashed the urge to wink at him, and instead, looked at Aria expectantly. As before, Aria became incredibly tense.

"I was home-schooled."

"Oh, really? What's it like?"

"It's alright, I guess."

Before she could press her, Aria shrugged her arm out of Emma's grip and nodded at all of them. "I'll see you round, okay? I'm just… I'm just feeling incredibly tired right now."

"You want me to escort you to the dungeons?" Tom asked in a bored tone, but Emma noticed that the slight tension in his frame. Either he wanted to escort Aria desperately, or he didn't. Not even a bit.

"No. No. Please. I couldn't spoil your fun."

"I insist. I have to patrol in fifteen minutes anyway."

"Please, Tom. I couldn't. I—I have something to do along the way."

With that response, Aria scurried out of the common room, appearing quite eager to leave Tom's presence. Tom's expression didn't change, but Emma caught how his knuckles had whitened as his grip on the glass tightened. Tom wanted to talk to Aria for some reason. And that reason probably was to fluster her senseless, if the previous conversation was anything to go by.

The glass in his hand suddenly shattered with a loud clatter.

Emma stepped forward, ignoring the blood on his hand as she pressed her fingers into the wound, quite impressed with how his countenance didn't change despite the pain he must be feeling. In his right ear, she whispered casually, "You don't need to worry. Despite her hostility, she definitely likes you."

Tom nodded at her coolly before withdrawing his wand. "How astute of you, Emma."

Emma smirked.

* * *

Aria let out a sigh of relief once she was out of the Common Room. It had been stifling there… Tom had been stifling there. He was just so—so annoying! She threw up her hands angrily as she walked out, taking care to avoid passageways where Filch might be. It wasn't curfew yet, and she wasn't drunk, but avoiding Filch was for the best. Her hands fisted as she recalled how he and Emma had ganged up on her, almost working as if they had one brain. Once, Emma had been a dear friend, now Aria wasn't sure if she liked her at all. She knew Emma was a twat when it came to boys, but to someone she barely knew…. That was a new low.

Her footsteps were light, but still the sound played through the corridor. Tap, tap, and tap. Aria's hand itched for her wand, but even if she drew it, was there any use, really?

Her mind pushed Tom away forcefully, as she focussed on the rest of them. Harry had hugged Ginny, both appeared quite flustered, Ron and Hermione were mates now…. Everything was going pretty perfectly, wasn't it?

And yet, the threat loomed over them.

James hadn't replied to any of her letters yet, and although she realized he was a busy Auror, some part of her was resentful at his abandonment. She could ask Harry, she supposed, but it seemed sort of redundant. Whatever message she wanted passed on to Dumbledore could happen only through James.

Her feet and her musings had taken her to Astronomy Tower.

Aria blinked as she heard moans coming from inside. Something about one particular voice jarred her mind, and she stepped ahead quietly, taking care to confine herself to the shadows.

Her heart dropped when she saw Lauren and Cormac twined together, snogging furiously.

* * *

Aria walked slowly, dragging her fingers across the stone wall as she felt it for extra indentions or bumps. After two rounds across the tapestry, she sighed, and turned for the final one; the one that would materialize a door to a place that would help her spend the night in relative calm. Astoria's crying had been irritating all of them, but unlike her, the other Slytherin's had used a silencing charm around their bed to keep away the noise. Her thoughts were running around on Tom, creating circles and barriers at the very thought of the Head Boy. The enigma that surrounded him was driving her crazy.

So you can imagine her surprise when the person in question himself rounded upon her as she took the last walk across the corridor.

"Tom…"

"Fitz. It's after curfew."

Aria looked around furtively. "Couldn't you—I mean, my dormitory is not exactly conducive to a good night's sleep now. And I have too much weighing on me right now; I need a place of calm."

"Why isn't your dorm conducive to sleeping then?" He stepped forward into the light, tapping his yew wand idly on his thigh as he surveyed her through half-closed eyes. "And what's weighing on your head?"

"Heavy questions…." She groaned dismally, staring at the empty stretch of wall before raising her arms in surrender. "If I tell you, will you let me go?"

Riddle surprisingly smirked, the points of his teeth glinting in the light. "If the story's entertaining enough."

"You're an insufferable prat, Mr. Riddle."

"I try my hardest, Ms. Fitz," he said in a modest tone.

"Right. Of course. It's sort of personal, so you'll have to keep it to yourself." On his nod, she continued: "Astoria's been crying in the dorm and I can't exactly cast a silencing charm."

His previously amused face assumed a blank look.

"Well. Nothing to say to that?"

"Not really, no."

"Riddle…."

"Fitz…." He mimicked with raised eyebrows.

Aria marched up to him in a moment of bravado and poked him in the chest. "Why'd you break up with her? She loves you."

He shrugged. "That, little bird, is nothing of consequence."

"It is if it stops me from sleeping at night!" she exclaimed loudly, clapping her hand on her mouth when the sound reverberated through the corridor. "Okay, look, she bloody fancies herself to be in love with you. And you were pretty happy with her. Why the sudden break up?"

"As I said, not your business. But if you must know, I had an epiphany."

"What epiphany?" she asked in a confused tone, shuffling her feet awkwardly when he sighed and ran his fingers through his rich hair. He didn't look at her for a few moments.

Then: "You aren't a bloke; I don't expect you to understand."

"Try me."

"Well…" he seemed at a loss at how to word it, "Astoria was a brilliant girlfriend, I'll give her that much. But I got bored. And she kept pressurizing me to say that I loved her too, which I don't. I don't like basing relationships on a lie. When we started off, she was like me, relaxed and fun-loving. Now she's constantly planning our future. It's bloody annoying."

Aria puckered her brow disapprovingly. "So you basically decided to nip it in the bud."

He looked relieved that she had understood. "Basically, yeah."

"Well, I—"

"I don't want to hear it," he cut off quickly, "I can almost feel the disapproval radiating off you. I never told her what we had was something exclusive and forever, Fitz. She knew this would come someday or the other. And I have ambitions… I can't have someone like her tying me down."

His grey eyes looked almost silver in the light, and the turn of his jaw was hard and smooth. Somehow, Aria found herself fascinated with that.

"Your turn."

"What?"

"Your turn to tell me what's weighing you down."

"You're beautiful," she blurted out suddenly, before shaking her head in a horrified manner, "Oh, fuck. I don't know what's wrong with me." Hesitantly, she glanced up at him to find a smirk fixed in place. He mercifully didn't say anything at her declaration though, so she sighed and pulled the escaped hair of her bun in an annoyed fashion. "I recently found out that one bloke is playing two of my mates, at the same time. And I don't know how to tell them both."

"That's pretty twisted."

"I know; that prat is being an arse, and once it leaks out, he's a goner. But I don't care about him. What I'm worried about is how to tell my mates that they're being fooled."

"Who's the bloke?"

Aria frowned. "I can't tell you."

"Right, right. You girls and your twisted codes. Why don't you just tell them both at the same time? They'll be out for his blood soon enough."

"But what if they fight?"

Riddle rolled his eyes condescendingly. "Honestly, Fitz, what's worse? The fact that they would be fooled by the same bloke in the weeks to come, or that they might fight and get over it? Do you really want your mates to be under the spell of a tosser like him for longer? I mean, he could take advantage of them even more."

Aria stared at him in shock. Quietly: "I didn't know you were this good at giving advice."

He snorted. "It's not advice, its basic knowledge that you have failed to grasp. It's not rocket science."

At that, Aria suddenly smiled. "You used a Muggle term."

"My father is a Muggle," he said sourly, before glancing at her. "You can't tell people that."

Quickly, she shook her head. "No, of course not. It's just—I'm curious. They say—people say that you've been disowned."

He pulled his tie calmly, loosening it as he spoke, "They didn't disown me. I disowned them, if that's even possible. I left the manor."

Manor. He had a ruddy manor. No orphanage. "And your mum?"

"Mum's infatuated with him despite the fact that he cheats on—why am I telling you this?"

She attempted a winning smile. It looked more like a grimace. "Because I'm a nice person?"

Riddle looked at her in disbelief. "You've changed."

"Excuse me?"

"You've become more of a Slytherin. I can't believe I didn't even notice it before now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest crossly. He smirked as if to say '_yeah, sure you don't_'.

"Really, Fitz? Tell me, how did you find out that your mates are dating the same bloke?"

"I—I just did," she said lamely.

"No, you didn't just. You manipulated your friends. Very Slytherin of you, little bird."

"I just read between the lines! That's all!"

"Deny it all you want."

"I'm not denying anything. You're a lying twat who's playing mind games with me!"

"As if I don't have better people to play mind games with," he retorted smarmily, stepping forward so that he was level with her. Suddenly, there was a loud crash that made them both jump.

"What the hell?"

"It appears to be Filch." Riddle said in a most unfazed tone.

Aria stared at him. "You're Head Boy. Say you're on your patrol and help me out."

"I can't. If he sees us together, he's bound to become suspicious… In fact, he'll be a little suspicious of me too, I have been drinking, and Filch can smell a drunk—"

Aria pushed past him, taking quick jogs across the seventh floor corridor, thinking furiously, '_I need a place to sleep; I need a place to sleep_'. Immediately, the engraved door materialized, and she grabbed Riddle's hand, pulling him inside with her. They entered lavish bedroom, with a bed located in the centre. It had scarlet hangings.

Riddle twisted, but his arm was still in her grasp. He raised one amused eyebrow. "If you really wanted me that badly, you should've just asked instead of assaulting me, Fitz."

She stared at him in irritation, before dropping his arm. "Quiet, you. This isn't the time for your smart comments. I just saved you from Filch."

"A disillusionment charm would've worked wonders too."

Aria sighed. "Can't you just say that you're grateful and be on your merry way?"

He smirked at her. "Slytherin's don't do well with gratitude."

"And that's utterly brill. Keep it up, and you won't have many people to be thankful to."

"I don't need people to help me."

"Oh, yes, quite the self-sufficient arse you are. Tell me, how are the nights with you and your hand?" she replied without missing a beat.

He burst out laughing. "Point to you, little bird. I never knew you had it in you."

"Tom…." She said warningly, but the edges of her mouth quirked too.

"Aria…." He repeated quickly, clasping her hand with his long fingers, and bringing it up so that it was raised to eye-level. She almost missed the feel of his lips across it. "Thank you."

Aria turned a brilliant shade of red. "I—that's just—I mean—you—"she sputtered, until he brought his index finger to her mouth, cutting her off. She stared at it with crossed eyes.

"Good night, Ms. Fitz."

"Night, Mr. Riddle," she said in a slightly breathless tone, rooted to the spot as he sauntered out of the Room of Requirement. It wasn't until late in the night that she realized three things.

One, he hadn't given her detention.

Two, he hadn't treated her as an outcast.

Three, he hadn't looked surprised in the least at the appearance of the Room.

Tom Riddle definitely was an enigma.

_(Next Morning)_

Hermione rushed forward, almost colliding into the very person she wanted to meet. At the same time:

"Hermione, I need advice."

"Aria, I need advice."

Both girls blinked. Then: "You first."

"No, you first."

"I insist."

"What are we, forty year olds?"

"No need to be insulting. Together?"

"On the count of three?"

"One."

"Two."

Both girls took deep breaths.

"I slept with Ron."

"Lauren and Dylan are being played by the same—wait, _what_?"

**A/N: Well, well, well. I took time with this, didn't I? Sorry. This chapter isn't my best work. Also, I recently read Harry Potter again, and well, Cormac is one year ahead of Harry… So damn. Harry is in his seventh year now, so all of you… Just pretend that Cormac is in his seventh too. He rooms with Harry and all, okay? And Emma Macmillan isn't Ernie Macmillan's sister.**

**Also. For all AVATAR: Last Airbender fans, I've started a new story. It's called Time and Tide, and it's a ZukoXOC thing, and please, please check it out. Like this one, it too dances at the edge of canon, but it has plenty of twists and turns along the way.**

**Reviews are gold, and reviewers are awesome.**

**Cheers.**


	9. Chapter 9

Aria blinked. "For real?"

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I don't know! I don't remember anything about last night—apart from the fact that I drank a lot, and danced—oh my god! I danced like a strumpet last night!" Her face was a sweet mixture of horror and desperation, and despite herself, Aria felt like laughing. She quelled the urge though, and instead, grabbed Hermione's elbow, pulling her to a secluded alcove.

"Have you ever… had sex before?"

Slowly, Hermione nodded.

"What?! WHO?"

Hermione also waved the query away.

"You _have_ to tell me! This is like, major gossip. Totally rad."

The Head Girl gave her a very withering glare, and Aria masked her enthusiasm with a contrite look. "Okay. Be that way. Are you sure you had sex? I mean, you might feel something…"

There was a sudden influx of students from the left, and Aria turned to them, even as Hermione opened her mouth. "Oh, fuck. I have potions. Look, we'll figure this out. Stay safe." And then she gave Hermione a very appraising glance. "And if you can, brew a contraceptive."

With that, she hurried away.

"What about Lauren and Dylan? You were saying something about them!" Hermione called out from behind her, and Aria raised her arm to wave off her concerns.

"Later. I promise."

* * *

Slughorn was talking about the upcoming N.E.W.T exams again. Well, upcoming for the seventh years, at least. Regardless, most of them looked bored. The workload was horrible, and they'd received this lecture so many times that it was starting to get quite repetitive. Even the sixth years weren't spared—it seemed like all the teachers wanted to do was scare them into submission with veiled threats. Quite harrowed, Aria lowered her head and perused the room with half-closed eyes. Tom had switched seats—he now worked with a hefty-looking brunette whose name she didn't know—but he resembled Desiree and Delilah. Must be their triplet.

Her own partner, Lestrange, was staring off into space, looking for the entire world as if he was solving a complex Arithmancy problem in his head. However, as Aria knew he didn't exactly take that class, it was definitely something else. Astoria was now partnered with Pansy; both the girls had been dumped recently and seemed to take comfort in each other's presence. Nobody missed the dry-eyed look on Astoria's face, and the complete lack of composure on Pansy's. Many people had _technically_ seen her run out of classes crying like a banshee.

Distractedly, Aria hoped she wouldn't do that today. There was enough drama in her life as it is.

"—you can switch seats with Alois, Draco."

Aria's head shot up. Next to her, Lestrange was packing up his things with barely contained glee, as was Draco.

"What did Slughorn say?"

Surprisingly, Lestrange actually answered. "He said I no longer have to put up with a Mudblood like you."

"Why?"

"Who cares?" With that eloquent reply, Lestrange slinked off, and Draco took his place. He raised his eyebrows on seeing her slumped form.

"Do you and Alois ever do anything during class?"

Aria chewed on her lower lip before replying, "Not really."

"That's not quite the surprise. Anyway, you'll have to work with me. I like my grades."

She stood up from the bench. "You're a pureblood. You'll get satisfactory grades."

"Yes, but I want to beat Riddle."

That said, he began organizing the messy desk. Aria watched him quietly for a few minutes before saying tentatively, "You know that's impossible, right?"

He ignored her and lit the cauldron. "Get fairfew leaves."

She considered sassing him, and then promptly changed her mind. It would do good to actually do something in class—something productive at least. With that decided, she walked towards the storeroom and quickly banged into someone's chest. Said someone wrapped his pianist fingers around her arms, and pushed her back, making her stumble into the shelf. Her elbow jarred at the impact.

"Watch it!" she hissed threateningly, cradling the bruised appendage in her other arm before looking up. It was Riddle. It just _had_ to be, didn't it?

"You're frightfully distracted today."

"Excuse me?"

He was holding a box in his hands, which he shook slightly at her. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You've been ignoring Slughorn since the start."

She glanced at the door to find the potions master far away from them, and then replied: "It's not as if he says anything new."

"True, true…" He brushed his fingers across his jaw contemplatively, "—still. You might learn _something_ new. He is a teacher."

"I'm just not in the mood today, I guess. Most days, I do make an effort."

"Something to do with those friends of yours?"

Memories of last night rushed through Aria's head. Her hand tingled as if ghost lips were pressing kisses on to it. "That," she agreed cautiously, "—and a bit more. Drama seems inevitable in my life."

His eyes darkened as they swept across the room contemptuously. "Join the group. I've had it with gossiping girls."

"Astoria making a fuss?"

"She's alright. It's the rest of them who annoy me—the ones who think I'm on the rebound."

"_You're_ not enjoying all the feminine attention? Someone record this."

With that, his mood lightened once more. "I enjoy your attention, though," he purred softly, inclining his head to the side as if to gauge her expression. Just for that, she purposely kept her face blank.

"That's nice." Then: "I've got to go; Draco's waiting. See you round, yeah?"

Feeling as if she had her metaphorical tail between her legs, Aria scurried away. Sans the leaves. Which made Draco scowl at her.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" He demanded brusquely, noting her empty hands, "You've been gone for ages, and you haven't even brought the leaves?"

"I—I was—"

There was no need for the explanation though, for his eyes moved to Riddle who had just come out from the storeroom, looking impossibly smug. Even as she watched, Riddle turned to look at her, and then Draco. His smirk widened, and then he winked at her. She clenched her fists tightly. _The nerve….._

"I see. No need to explain." Draco turned back to the cauldron, and waved his wand. A few leaves from Pansy's desk came flying towards them. Pansy looked up in surprise, and then locked eyes with Draco with a very hopeful expression on her face. Draco turned away coldly. Pansy burst into tears. A headache blossomed between Aria's eyes, and she rubbed her head furiously.

"Did you have to do that? We all know she's still hung-up over you… And I do need to explain! It wasn't like that."

He ignored the first part of what she had said. "Of course it was like that. I should've noticed before," he paused to check the temperature of the cauldron before continuing, "You can't keep your eyes off him."

"WHAT?" Aria squeaked unhappily, and then said in a more controlled voice: "_What_? Don't be ridiculous."

"Really, Fitz, there's no need to be so scandalized. I won't tell anyone."

"Oh, you—_you_ won't tell anyone? Fuck that, there is nothing to tell!"

"Of course there isn't."

The bastard was patronizing her! "W-what does—"was all she managed to sputter, before a piece of parchment landed on her desk out of nowhere. Glaring at the blonde next to her, she picked it up. It said:_ I have information. Pick a time for a rendezvous—D._

Aria glanced at him, noting that he was avidly avoiding looking at her, and then scribbled quickly: _Midnight_._ Second floor corridor, near the Kitchens._

The paper vanished. Was it supposed to do that? She looked at Draco again, and found it in his hand. He gave her a quick nod before turning back to the Potion.

Well, then.

* * *

"Attention, sixth and seventh year students. In lieu of the recent workload upon all of you, we have decided to let you go to Hogsmeade today."

There was an anticipated pause, and Aria wasn't disappointed, for everyone cheered—and the younger students grumbled and groaned. After a minute, McGonagall continued: "I request you all to be back by seven p.m; anyone late will be given detention, and I warn you, I will not be lenient. That is all, good day."

She let the words wash over her, and her face morphed into an easygoing grin even as she walked quickly towards the door. This was perfect. This was exactly what she needed! Some time to relax after all this drama, and all the tension—her musings were cut short as she spied Hermione walking ahead of her. She called out, obviously. "Hermione! Hey, wait up!" The Head Girl paused to let Aria catch up, and soon, they were walking together. "Isn't this brilliant! Hogsmeade! Yes!"

Hermione laughed. "I know. I can't believe McGonagall is being so nice!"

"Maybe she's feeling guilty. Apparently, there was supposed to be a Hogsmeade trip earlier, but that report in the newspaper—"

"Oh, let's not talk about unhappy things. This is a situation to rejoice!" Hermione grabbed her arm and began skipping across the corridor. Aria halted suddenly, a vague suspicion forming in her head.

She voiced it out loud. "You didn't sleep with him."

"No." The relief was palpable in her voice. "After you left, I thought about it—and I realized I didn't feel like I had sex… I mean, there's this feeling you have, and I didn't have it, and isn't that brilliant?"

"Yes, but, why such happiness?" she asked even as she was pulled along to the doors of the castle. "I mean, you sound a bit too happy, don't you?"

Hermione stopped, and pointed an accusing finger. "And you are just too damn observant for your own good!"  
Aria raised one eyebrow, and she relented. "Fine. If you must know, I just got a letter."

"And?" Aria pressed impatiently, tapping her feet.

"And it's from Ron. And he wants to meet up. In the Three Broomsticks."

"Like… a date?"

"Probably. Do I look alright?"

Aria gave her an once-over, and then nodded. "You look great. But—when did you get changed? I swear the announcement just happened a few minutes ago, how'd you—"

"Really, Aria, don't be dense. I transfigured my skirt. I'm a witch, you—oh my god. _I'm so sorry._ That was insensitive of me."

Aria waved it away. "Never mind that. I'm not going to burst into gentle tears because you said something practical… You want to catch a carriage together?"

"Sure. Seen Ginny and the lot anywhere?"

She looked around, trying to spot the familiar red strands before giving up. "I think we'll find them soon enough. Listen, we need to talk about the Dylan-Lauren thing." Aria paused to give Hermione a meaningful glance. "They're dating the same bloke. _Secretly_."

"Who?"

"McLaggen."

Hermione stopped altogether, completely ignoring Aria's incessant pushing. "I'll kill him!" she hissed menacingly, "—what a complete tosser."

"I know. Trust me, I know. But can we please move? People are starting to wonder. That's right, good. Keep your voice down too."

"We need to do something."

The Slytherin gave the Head Girl a _very_ dry look. "Yes, Captain obvious. The question is: What do we do?"

The Head Girl gave the Slytherin a _very_ caustic look. "We tell them, obviously."

Aria sighed, and loosened her grip on Hermione's arm. Her dark eyes scanned the exterior of the Castle with a contemplative look. "The thing is, I'm not sure how to tell them. It has to be in a way that makes them not lunge for each other, you know?" They had reached the door by this time, where Filch stood waiting.

"Where are you—oh. Head Girl." Filch rasped noisily, and then ticked something on the parchment in his hand. He turned to Aria. "Name?"

"Aria Fitz. Sixth year."

"Yes, yes, go on."

That being done, the two girls continued their musings as they emerged from the castle. "Reckon any of them will be angry with each other?" Hermione asked in a low tone.

Aria shrugged. "Dylan probably will. I mean, she was pretty vocal about her crush on him. She'll accuse Lauren."

"You're right. This needs delicate handling."

"What needs delicate handling?" It was Dylan herself. Accompanied with Ginny and Lauren who were wearing scarves and mittens. Aria suddenly felt very cold.

Hermione and Aria exchanged a glance before simultaneously answering: "Nothing."

"That just piques my curiosity even more."

"Leave them be, Dylan. Did you tell Aria the plan yet?" Ginny asked enthusiastically, pushing into the loose circle the girls had formed. "Do any of you have a date?"

"Hermione does."

"_Aria_!"

"What? She asked!"

"Really? Who?" This was Lauren, who was holding a book in her hands. Upon seeing Hermione's belligerent face, she backtracked instantly. "It's okay if you don't want to tell us."

"No, it's not okay. Sisters before misters, Hermione!"

"Dylan, leave her be."

"But I—"

"No buts. Anyway," here, Ginny turned to Aria and flashed her big smile, "We've decided to have a girl's day out. No boys. And no Hermione either, since she ditched us."

Hermione laughed it off. "Alright, alright, I get it. I'm not wanted. I'll see you around, then." She went away to an empty carriage, leaving behind the four sixth years, three of which turned to look at one expectantly. The one was Ginny—who wasted no time in taking control of the situation.

"We've decided to act like English Royalty."

"_She_ decided, she means."

Aria blinked. "What?"

Lauren rolled her eyes. "See, we're going to pretend to be English roses, like, of the seventeenth century variety. Hence, now forth, everything that comes out of our mouths should be formal, dry, and—"

"—and utterly boring." Dylan finished with a yawn. "I don't like it one bit. What fun is there calling Ginny as Miss Ginevra?"

Ginny turned her big, brown eyes to Aria, her expression pleading. "Come on, agree to this please! Then we'll have the majority and Dylan can go rot."

"No, Aria, I forbid you!" Dylan intoned right after the redhead, shaking her head as she did so, "I mean, how boring will it be?"

"It won't be boring! Just you wait!"

"I don't think so."

"You never think anything!"

"Right—guys, please shut up. I agree to the plan. It might be fun!"

Dylan stared at her. "Traitor."

Aria snorted. "Right. Let's leave, then?"

They caught the next empty carriage, Dylan grumbling all the way. Briefly, Aria thought back on Cormac, and then firmly pushed the situation aside. It could wait. She would talk to Hermione, they would come up with a plan, and then they'd tell Dylan and Lauren. Hopefully in a way that wouldn't make them fight each other to death.

"So, how's everything between you and Tom?"

"There is no me and Tom."

"You surely jest, Miss Aria," Lauren said, her face buried in her book, "I saw him rushing out after you yesterday, during the party. He left Emma Macmillan shouting behind him."

"Is that so?" Ginny's face was mischievous. "He isn't dating anyone now, too."

"Aria's single, Riddle's single, and they should just hook up now."

"Dylan! You have to at least _attempt_ at speaking formally."

Dylan crossed her arms obnoxiously. "Fine. Miss Aria's single, and Mr. Riddle is single too. They should court, and he should marry her." She gave Ginny a very haughty look. "Was that fine, Miss Ginevra?"

Ginny returned it. "It was a try, at least, Miss Dylan."

"Honestly, you two, break it up. We've reached Hogsmeade."

Instantly, a smile broke out on Ginny's face. "Brilliant. I can't wait to see Dean and chide him for calling me Ginny."

They emerged from the carriage laughing loudly.

* * *

It was like a bad joke.

Wearily, Emma met up with Tom near the Great Hall with a saddened look on her face. The power of that face had caused many boys during the way to ask if they could accompany her to Hogsmeade and help make her day better, and regrettably, Emma had to refuse many of them. Actually, she had refused all of them. It was a first for her, and Emma decided she did like all the attention. Maybe she should stay sad a bit more. However, Emma Macmillan was an uncomplicated person; despite the angst she tended to project sometimes. She liked drawing, running, and dating. Those were her chief hobbies. She also liked Tom Riddle, but that was a different matter altogether. Liking Tom Riddle was causing her quite the problem.

"Emma," he nodded at her, before proffering his arm. She took it. "We need to patrol from three to five."

She sighed. "I know. Why today? I wanted to go to Hogsmeade."

"McGonagall didn't tell me about her plan. Otherwise I would've changed the date of our patrol."

Emma looked up at him and squeezed his arm slightly. "That's very sweet of you," she remarked softly, "but honestly, it's alright. We'll have an official one soon, I guess."

"After the holidays only."

Her face fell. "Well, that's—sad."

He gave her an amused glance before steering her towards the right. "Look at it this way—at least you can relax during the hols. We have to study for N.E.W.T's."

"Tom, don't be silly. _You_ don't need to study. You probably know the whole syllabus better than the Professors."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Well, I am." Then: "You left me hanging at the party last night."

"I left you with Potter. That isn't called hanging."

"No," she pouted becomingly, before baring her neck to look up at him, "you left without telling me what our kiss meant."

"Did it have to mean something?" He asked in a distracted tone, eyes taking in the empty corridor ahead of them. She pulled his hand slightly to regain his attention.

"It could, if you wanted it to."

"I'm afraid I must decline."

"Why?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought I told you that already. I'm not looking for anything."

"Why not? You're hot, I'm hot, and we'll make a splendid couple."

Tom stopped walking at that to look at her. _Really_ look at her. "You aren't looking for a relationship."

"No," she smirked at him, "friends with benefits would do too. You're an amazing kisser."

Next moment, she was against the wall, her hands wrapped across him, his hands exploring her body, their mouths connected. Emma let out a moan of triumph. If there was one thing she knew, it was that many relationships had been built on such a passion. He had to fall for her sooner than later. Of that, she was sure.

Till then, friends with benefits sounded pretty damn good.

* * *

Harry sat down slowly, hesitantly, before nodding at the woman in front of him. "Hey."

"Hey to you too," Lavender said in an amused tone, before gesturing to the menu. "Want anything?"

Harry's eyes twitched as he took in his surroundings, and then he sighed. "Did we have to do this at Puddifoot's?"

"Don't whine. I don't like whining men."

With an air of superiority, Lavender gestured to the waitress, ordered two teas, and then proceeded to prop her chin in her hands as she surveyed the boy in front of her. "Its payback, honestly, you could be a little more gracious about it. I could've asked you to do some horrible, _horrible_ things."

"Nothing beats Puddifoot's." Harry said almost cheerfully, still a little shell-shocked by the sheer amount of pink near him. It was everywhere—from being draped on the tables, to the counter, to the chair, even the bloody tea saucer was pink. Blatantly so, in fact. Around him, couples dotted the tables in various poses of intimacy. Mostly, it was PG. But two Slytherin's were currently snogging furiously on the table across them—and it was making him rather comfortable. He scratched his head absently. "Is there a reason you wanted a date to keep your mouth shut?"

Lavender shrugged. "Honestly, ever since Ron broke up with me, I've had it with the number of pity-glares and sad smiles. Blokes are terrified to come close because they think I'm on the rebound, and they've pegged me as the 'relationship' type. It's frustrating."

"So you decided to swell rumours that you're in the dating game for the fun of it again?"

"Yes."

Harry snorted. "Fair enough. But I'm not doing anything more for you. That's clear, yeah?"

"After this, you wouldn't have to. I'd be popular as the bird that scored two best friends. And dumped them both."

"So you're the one leaving me?"

"Obviously," said Lavender, picking up her hands to throw away some random fleck of dirt on her nails. "You'll have to kiss me, though."

Harry had, by then, not began drinking the insipid tea that he knew by experience (Parvati Patil), was entirely too sweet and entirely too weak. It was fortunate for Lavender that he had not done so, for if he had, he would've spat it all out on her red dress.

"You _cannot_ be serious."

* * *

"Hey," Hermione said a little shyly, smoothing the corners of her skirt nervously as she looked at Ron, who gave her a dazed smile. "I'm ready…"

"Hermione…. You look—you look brilliant!"

She smiled at that. "Thanks. Aria helped me pick out this skirt—you know what? Never mind. Let's go."

"Three Broomsticks?"

He held out his hand, which she took gratefully and they began walking towards the established pub. The door tinkled cheerfully as Ron opened it, his red hair flying in the wind and his face flushed pink with the cold. He left the door open for Hermione to walk past, and then he joined her at an empty booth which was luckily situated away from all the noise.

"You said you wanted to talk," Hermione began in a low tone, purposely leaning forward so that their proximity increased. Emboldened by the gesture, she met his eyes and unconsciously licked her lips, noting how his gaze became fixated with them instantly. It was like electricity that sparkled between them, and Ron's throat moved as he swallowed. He cleared his throat.

"You didn't do anything unseemly last night," he blurted out in a pique to distract himself, and it worked, for Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "And we didn't—we didn't sleep together. I would never, ever take advantage of you like that, I swear."

The burst of courage that had propelled him to utter those words left him entirely, and slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, hoping for a positive reaction. She looked… _amused_?

"Ron. I know. I just—at first, I thought maybe we did, and that's why I ran… But then on the way to the dorm, I met Aria, and we discussed it, and well—we might not have been on such good terms before this, but I know you, Ron. I know you wouldn't. That's what… That's what I like about you."

There was another pause, and then suddenly, Rosmerta was standing at their table, twisting her quill in her hand before saying, "What can I get you two?"

Ron looked up hopefully. "Firewhiskey?"

Hermione protested. "Ron, _no_, I don't want to get drunk again!"

"Fine. Butterbeer, then. Make that two."

"Sure thing."

With that, Rosmerta walked away, and Ron met Hermione's eyes before giving her a sheepish grin. "Y'know, you're not what I thought you were."

"Not the stuck-up bookworm?"

He winced. "No, look, Hermione—I notice stuff about you. I don't know when or why that happened, but, it's like—when you enter a room, I look up… It's like this awareness, and I probably sound crazy right now…. But that's just—"

Hermione raised her hand. "So do I. I mean, I get that feeling too—"she bit her lip, and then leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, "My theory is that we were both cursed."

He leaned forward a bit too, and suddenly, the door blasted open, and a couple of enthusiastic sixth years rushed in. One of them, Thomas Humphrey did a double-take upon seeing Ron and Hermione together, and rushed towards them, wringing his hands. "Ron, mate—there's something you should see."

Ron raised one red eyebrow. "What?"

"It's Potter. Potter and Brown. They're—they're kissing in front of the Post Office."

Hermione couldn't even edge in a word as Ron threw himself out of his seat, and out of the door. She followed him, only to find that Humphrey was telling the truth—Harry and Lavender were actually snogging furiously, and then something bad happened.

Ron started shouting.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, hands full with supplies from the joke shop when he heard the shouting. His curiosity rose to high levels as he pushed past people crowding the Post Office to see—a love triangle? Potter, Brown and Weasley stood in the centre, with Granger holding on to Weasley's arm and pleading him to stop shouting. He focussed on the shouting.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Weasley said uproariously, face turning red with all the effort. Draco felt like snorting. His whole family had quite the set of lungs, didn't they? Everyone knew that from the large amount of howlers his mum sent. Narcissa would rather drop dead than display her ignorance by sending a howler.

"Ron, relax. Stop shouting." Potter sounded tired.

"STOP SHOUTING?! NO I WON'T STOP SHOUTING! YOU WERE SNOGGING MY EX-GIRLFRIEND!"

Oh, dear Merlin, _this_ was what the fuss was about? How droll. Bored, Draco scanned the crowd next. Brown looked smug, Granger looked almost as furious as Weasley, if her frizzy hair was any indication. She was pulling Weasley's sleeve angrily, and now—aah. She finally pulled out a wand. _Finally_. Next to her, he could see Aria and the group of Gryffindor's she usually hung out with. The female Weasley was laughing at the situation, her boyfriend was giving her weird looks, and Aria had very wide eyes as she looked at the scenario.

She looked up, and their eyes met. Draco gave her a wink, at which she scowled at him. Obviously, she couldn't understand his humour about the situation. He rolled his eyes, and turned around. Only to meet the grey eyes of Riddle. Riddle gave him a brisk nod before pushing past him to the centre of the circle. He raised his wand.

"What, in the name of Merlin, in all the fuss about?"

"Tom!" Granger squeaked, sounding grateful, "Please do something. They just won't—"

"_Silencio_."

The hilarious part was, that Weasley kept shouting, looking completely oblivious to the fact that Riddle had silenced him. Draco snickered as realization finally dawned on him, and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He then turned to Granger imploringly, who—oh, this was precious—Granger threw her nose in the air and marched away, the outline of her body harsh and forbidding. McKinnon rushed after her, and that was when Draco noticed that she was shaking. She was crying. _Granger_ was crying. What had the world come to?

Potter had his arm around Brown as he led her away, and the crowd subsided finally, muttering to each other as they did so. Draco turned around to walk away too.

He had better things to do with his time than watch the theatrics of those bloody lions.

* * *

"You think I should go after her?" Aria asked anxiously as she watched Hermione's retreating back. Realization had dawned on her a bit too late, and the Head Girl was far away before she noticed her shaking. Ron, too, was looking at her agape, but Aria found she had no pity for him. What an idiot, blowing off his date with Hermione for someone like Lavender Brown. Still, it didn't sit too well with her that Harry was snogging her, out of all people. Something was fishy.

"Too many cooks spoil the broth," Dylan said in a low tone, patting her arm, "and Lauren will deal with her just fine. She's pretty good at consoling people."

Still, Aria hesitated. "Well, if you say so…"

"I know so. Oh, hello Tom."

Tom Riddle had materialized in front of them. Despite herself, Aria found that she admired the way he had taken control of the situation. As Head Boy, he was damn efficient.

"Dylan, Ginny, Dean, Aria," he said to them all, his eyes resting on her finally, "are you all alright?"

"We're fine," Dean said, glancing at the still-laughing redhead next to them. "Well, apart from Ginny. She just can't—are you alright, darling?"

"I'm fine. I'm just—I'm not laughing at Hermione. I'm laughing at my brother!" She wheezed out breathlessly, "He's such a git."

And off she went again. Tom raised one smooth eyebrow. Dylan coughed discreetly. "We were at Malkin's when we heard the noise. We came over as fast as we could… You won't give them detention, will you?"

"That remains to be seen. I'll have to ask Hermione." Upon seeing their anxious faces, he relented. "I don't think so, though, since there were no hexes flying. I think we might just let them off with a warning."

"That's good."

"Indeed. What are you all going to do now?"

Dean grabbed Ginny's arm. "We're going to Zonko's. I need to buy something."

Dylan glanced at Aria before shrugging. "I have to meet someone at the Three Broomsticks."

Aria glanced back at her. "Someone as in… _him_?" she asked softly, in a veiled reference to Cormac. Dylan shook her head.

"Someone else."

"Well, okay. Can I come with you?"

Dylan looked guilty. "I—I'm sorry, but I think—"

"It's fine. I'll accompany Aria." Tom interrupted smoothly, offering his hand to her. Aria stared at him.

"Miss Fitzwilliam. Aria is Miss Fitzwilliam."

"Excuse me?"

Dylan looked positively gleeful, Aria looked positively murderous. "Well, they decided to pretend to be aristocrats todays… And it was supposed to be Aria's debut in society, and since Fitz didn't sound so grand, we decided to call her Miss Fitzwilliam."

Aria decided to do damage-control "Against my wishes, might I add."

Tom smirked at her. "Very well, Miss Fitzwilliam, shall we go?"

She took his arm.

* * *

"Dylan! Hello!" Terry peered behind her to see no one there and his smile faltered slightly. "Where's Lauren?"

Dylan sighed as she took her seat opposite him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't bring her. Hermione had a moment and she went off to console her."

"Oh…" He shrugged then.

"I promise I'll find another way to make her meet you."

"It's alright, Dylan, relax. It wasn't something you could have anticipated. I heard the shouts too, you know…"

"Who didn't?" she asked lightly, resting her head in her hands as she propped up her arm, "but honestly, Harry and Lavender? That was unexpected."

"Burbage saw them together at Puddifoot's. They were holding hands."

"Oh, yuck, Puddifoot's? Harry hates that place!"

"Does he?" Terry asked absently, his eyes scanning the crowd for Rosmerta. "Can I get you anything? Rosmerta seems very busy to come take our orders."

"Firewhiskey for me."

His eyes met hers teasingly. "Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"After all this drama? _No_."

Taking in her words, Terry got up from the booth to walk away. Dylan lowered her head to the table and ran her fingers along the pattern lazily as she did so. Then: "Dylan! Hey, Dylan!"

She looked up to meet Cormac's eyes. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you won't be coming to Hogsmeade!"

He gave her a wan smile. "Sorry, sweetheart, I just decided to pop in for a drink. Chambers was being very insistent. He has a crisis at home." Cormac paused to look at her a bit critically. Then: "What about you? What're you doing here with Boot?"

"Oh, he fancies Lauren. I was supposed to bring her here so that they could 'connect', but then she left with Hermione. And I came to bring him the news."

"Right… He fancies Lauren? As in, your roommate, Lauren?"

Dylan stared at him. "How many more Laurens do you know?" She also inclined her head to the side to survey his curiously blank face. "What's wrong?"

"Well, nothing… It's just… Boot isn't a good guy, Dylan. I mean, he told me he fancies you, he told you he fancies your roommate. Something's wrong, don't you think?"

"Well, I—you're the one whose mates with him. You should know."

Cormac exhaled softly. "He's okay to blokes, I guess… But to birds, he's a right tosser."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah, don't say I didn't warn you. I should go. He's coming back."

"Oh, alright." She gave him a shaky smile. "Astronomy Tower after dinner?"

He winked. "Count on it."

Then he left, and Terry sidled into the empty booth a few minutes later, two bottles of firewhiskey in his hand. He placed one in front of her with flourish. "Here's to Her Majesty's drink."

Dylan didn't pick up the bottle. "Look, Terry, I should go… check on Hermione and all, okay? I also left Aria waiting outside…" She didn't wait for his reply as she got up, picked up her rucksack, and retreated quickly. Behind her, Terry was still holding his bottle with a confused expression on his face.

What _did_ he do now?

* * *

Tom Riddle had a very nice smile. Not that she was—oh hell. Okay, so she was. Noticing, that is. He also had a nice physique and she just wanted to—wanted to curl her arms around his as they walked together, quietly. Definitely quietly. It was not such a far cry from their first—second meeting, yet the undercurrents were far from the same. There was just this little something she couldn't put her finger on—and they would be breaking curfew if they didn't turn around yet, but predictably, Aria didn't want to go back. Not just so quickly.

"Well, well, well—"she started finally, "—someone's pretty quiet."

Tom leaned back a little to give her a lazy grin. "You actually want to talk? That's a new one."

"Don't be juvenile," Aria admonished, shaking her head a little even as laughter bubbled past her lips, "I am quite interested in knowing what you're thinking."

"Are you?"

Again, that cocky smirk she wanted to wipe away.

"Fine. Be that way. See if I care," she huffed, increasing her speed so that she was now ahead of him. Fingers curled around her right hand, bringing her to an effective standstill, and slowly, Aria turned around to face him with a raised eyebrow.

"I was thinking we should frequent Honeydukes."

To her credit, nothing escaped from her mouth, but her expression must have said oodles, because Riddle smirked again. "I assure you, it's nothing personal. I just wanted to buy crystallized pineapple."

Bossily: "For Slughorn?"

Once more, that enigmatic, sexy-as-hell smirk rose on his face, before he inclined his head. "So smart."

Aria snorted. "It doesn't take a genius to find out the inner workings of your mind."

"Really?"

Aria chose not to reply, but instead, stuffed her fingers into her jeans and fell back a little. Unbidden, the thought of how it would feel if they were a couple right now arose in her mind, but just as quickly, Aria squashed it away, attempting to bury it under her harsh judgement of his character. So he wasn't yet and probably wouldn't be Lord Voldemort; he was still an odious man with narcissist characteristics. With that in mind, and convinced of her own superiority, Aria threw her nose in the air haughtily and marched along, quite unaware of the dark eyes that noted her movements with amusement.

"Well?" she snapped when she noticed he had stopped following her, "What are you waiting for?" Déjà vu struck her once more when Riddle gave her _that_ look.

"Nothing, really." With that, and no clear explanation for his behaviour, Tom stepped forward and resumed his measured strides alongside her. He then glanced at her. "What brought about the idea of acting like English roses?"

"With the peach and cream complexion? I don't know. I came out to the staircase, and there they were—ready for my debut in society."

A low rumbling chuckle was the next sound she heard, and quite unexpectedly, the back of her neck heated up. Expert that she was, Aria ignored it. "It was fun though," she added after a while, "No boys, and just us. Puts everything into a nice perspective."

Riddle hummed in response, and opened the swinging door to Honeydukes, inclining his head as she walked past him. He followed her not a moment later, and his hand brushed past her waist, making Aria stiffen a bit. Then, in a move she swore was deliberate, his lips ghosted past her ears, and he whispered, "Is there anything you would like to buy?"

The combination of his warm breath and the cold air rushing in through the still-open door was heady, intoxicating, _forbidden_, really, but Aria was nothing if not a Slytherin. She flipped back her bangs as she perused him through half-closed eyes. "That's very chivalrous of you, Mister Riddle."

"Oh, don't mention it, Miss _Fitzwilliam_."

She grimaced at the name, and just like that, the moment was broken. Aria couldn't quite decide if she wanted to sigh in relief—or hit him till he was senseless. Ever the relaxed persona, Riddle had already moved past her to the counter, throwing her one last '_are you coming_' glance before proceeding to flirt with the woman manning the counter. Said woman looked ready to swoon, before her eyes fell on Aria who had joined Riddle on the counter. Her eyes narrowed, and Aria had to bite back a smile. She was no competition, really. Not for Riddle.

And then she let out an undignified squeak when Riddle's arm snaked around her waist and he turned to her. "Anything for you, darling?"

Through narrowed eyes: "No. Nothing, cupcake."

The deliberately nauseating endearment didn't even faze him as he turned back to the counter-girl. "Two boxes of crystallized pineapple, then."

"Right away," the girl replied, waving her wand and pushing the boxes towards Tom. Then she leaned across the counter. "If there's anything else you need—"

"—I know where to look," Tom finished for her, giving her a lazy wink and throwing two galleons on the counter. His hand hadn't removed itself from Aria's waist, and she was slowly becoming uncomfortable with the feel of it there. It wasn't exactly unpleasant—the problem was that it bordered on being _too_ pleasant, and since she and Riddle weren't going to make a habit of this, it also seemed unwise. So as quickly as she could, she shimmied out of his grip and opened the door herself, revelling in the blast of cold air that hit her red face. "Winter is coming."

"Indeed."

"Think we should head back now?"

"So eager to escape my company, little bird?"

Aria bit her lip as she turned to look at him. He tone was relaxed, his mouth was turned up, but his eyes were intense. Hooded, and hiding something. So she raised one cool eyebrow.

"When have I not?"

Tom let out an unexpected laugh, and threw his hand around her shoulder. "You must be the only girl dying to escape me," he said conversationally, steering Aria along to god-knows-where, "care to give me a reason why?"

Aria shrugged as much as she could from under the weight of his arm, "Truly? I am the Outcast. We have no business speaking and such."

"I am an Authority in my own right, Miss Fitz, I'm sure you agree." He flashed her that grin again, and Aria clenched her fingers into fists.

"You're an arrogant arse, that's what you are."

He looked taken aback by her sudden vehemence, and that was good-for she was far from finished. "There are people in Slytherin, Tom Marvolo Riddle _Gaunt_, that I wouldn't mind knowing, mind being mates with. People whom I would have gotten along with if it wasn't for you and your dratted House system. It has to be one of the most STUPID, ill-conceived ideas that I've ever heard of and—Oh, hello Emma."

Emma Macmillan gave her a wave. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything—," then her gaze travelled to the arm on Aria's shoulders and from there, it moved to Riddle. "Hello Tom."

Tom still didn't remove that bloody arm. "Hi Emma," he said calmly, giving her a nonchalant smile before turning to Aria. "You were saying?"

"Never mind," Aria waved away, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of not only Riddle but also Emma. Surreptiously, she managed to remove her shoulder from his grip. "Didn't you both have patrol today?"

Emma nodded, but her eyes didn't leave Aria's face. Remembering the last (disastrous) time she was together with the two of them, Aria made to turn away, but was stopped by Riddle's hand on her arm. "Stay," he said simply, and she blinked at him.

"Okay."

"Wanna catch a carriage back?" Emma chimed in chirpily, effectively distracted Aria's thoughts on why exactly the combination of those eyes on his face made her want to acquiesce, "We can go together." With that, the blonde cheerily took Riddle's other hand, the vacant one, and then leaned forward to wink at Aria. "Now isn't Tom lucky? Two beautiful ladies hanging on his arm."

Riddle didn't even look fazed at the sudden intrusion. "Oh, of course, I'm really lucky."

The walk to the carriages was in silence on Aria's part, meaningless comments on Emma's part, and downright monosyllabic answers from Tom. During the way, Aria had managed to extricate her hands from his once more—although she didn't want to—but it felt like the right thing to do and she would be damned if she turned into another Emma, or Astoria, or his other rabid fan girls. The action earned her a raised eyebrow and an annoyed look, but he remained silent, for which she was grateful. There was something brewing between them two, something she didn't want to name, something she wasn't sure even existed, and yet—yet, maybe it wasn't all one-sided?

Hope is man's last resort.

Tom helped Emma into the carriage, walked in himself, and then extended his arm to Aria, who took it only because she didn't want to appear rude. They all settled into the carriage pretty happily, though Aria suspected she was the only one who saw the Threstal moving it along. In a fit of bad-judgement, she leaned out of the window and patted its flank. The Threstal snorted at that, shook his head and moved up, flying in the air. She grinned wistfully at that, and then leaned back onto her seat—only to meet the confused gaze of Emma. Tom merely looked thoughtful.

"Why were you patting the air?"

She shrugged. "I was feeling the cold."

"You can see the threstals."

The last comment was, obviously, Tom, who had moved forward to give Aria a wan smile. "Your parents?"

No. _You_. "Yeah."

"What happened to your parents?" Emma asked curiously, and Aria squirmed in her seat before replying.

"They're dead."

"Oh." Emma looked askance at her, before shrugging. "What are threstals?"

Aria had to bite back a smile at that. Emma was still Emma, the same, unconcerned, narcissist brat they harboured in the Gryffindor dorm. It wasn't that she was a bad person, technically, but the world revolved around her only. She was rather selfish too. "Animals…" Aria finally replied, purposely keeping her reply vague. To this, Emma had no response for her, and instead, she turned to Tom with a gleam in her big, blue eyes. Aria sighed.

"Tom, what are threstals?"

"Animals that pull our carriages."

Emma raised her hands to her mouth before shaking her head. "Are you trying to be funny? There's no one pulling the carriages."

"There are. They can be seen only by those people who have seen death."

"Can you see them Tom?"

"No."

Aria jerked in her seat. "You can't see them?"

Riddle shrugged. "Not really. Why?"

"Nothing—I just—never mind." Aria said, going back to viewing the scenery from the window. Her brow furrowed as the implications of his words struck her. Some part of her mind duly noted that Emma was saying something, but she was too—shocked? Surprised? Resigned? Relieved? Aria didn't even know what she was feeling. A part of her wondered if he was lying, but another part intoned in a smug voice, asking her why he would. Who would he have killed if he wasn't planning to become Voldemort? _That's right. No one._

Still. Aria felt unease slithering down her back, making its way down even as her skin became damp at the thought.

"Aria? Hey. You still here?"

With effort, she returned to reality. "Yes. Sorry, I was just—"

There were traces of amusement in Tom's voice when he spoke next, but unlike before, it didn't seem to be directed at her. It felt more like… he was laughing _with_ her, instead of at her, and honestly, the feeling of such a realization was two parts happy and two parts apprehensive. "You constantly zone out," he remarked in that same, cool voice. And Aria finally smiled.

"You noticed, huh?"

"Hmm, it's kind of hard not to."

Again, the moment was broken when Emma wormed her way into the conversation. "Didn't you have a date for today, Aria?"

"No, no I didn't." After a few seconds: "Didn't you?"

"Oh, I got a few invitations… But we had patrol, and I wasn't up to anything after that. What about you, Tom? You asked anyone yet, after Astoria?"

His reply was terse. "No."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't up to it."

"I heard Yaxley asked you."

"She did."

"Yaxley? As in Elizabeth? Our dorm mate?" Aria interrupted with a frown, thinking back on the brunette who occupied the bed next to her. "Isn't she—I mean, I thought she'd support Astoria…"

Emma gave a tinkling laugh. "You're so refreshingly naïve, Aria. Astoria's a girl, and Tom's a bloke. Why would there be any need to support one?"

"I just—I thought…" she lapsed off into silence, still furrowing her forehead. Wasn't their supposed to be loyalty amongst friends? A touch on her hand brought her out of her thoughts.

Riddle smirked at her. "Slytherin, remember?"

Aria nodded, but chose not to comment on it. The carriage lurched as they touched ground, and she almost jumped out of it first, not bothering to wait for her companions. Ahead of her, she could dimly make out the forms of Ginny and Dean, who seemed to be talking rather earnestly. The sky rumbled threateningly, and a stray rain drop hit her hand, leaving behind a trail of wet skin as it moved down to her arm. There was blissful silence for a while, and then she was once more accompanied by the people she had travelled with.

"Are you feeling alright? You look rather pale."

Her thoughts were angst-filled, but she turned to look at them with what she hoped was a reassuring expression. "It's cold."

Next to her, Tom looked up to the castle, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his bare neck. The tendons and muscles twitched as he clenched his jaw, and she noticed Emma's fixation with his form too. Aria had to smile at that, and finally, he turned to her. The turn of his eyes was surprisingly soft. "Winter will be coming soon."

"That's right. Can we move inside now?" Emma asked in a bored tone and began marching briskly to the castle. Her cold hands grabbed both her and Tom as she dragged them along. "You can continue the philosophical conversation on the way. I'm freezing." Her grip slackened as they neared the warmth of the entrance. Light flickered slightly as a harsh breeze moved across them. Students littered the hallway, laughing and chatting—the overall mood was rather high. A few couples held hands and leaned towards each other—and Aria noticed Dylan standing on the staircase, conversing in dulcet tones to Cormac. They didn't look like a couple though. Once again, she was reminded of that which she had pushed away, and a sigh escaped her lips, unbidden. Something had to be done.

"Emma!" Someone exclaimed in a loud voice, and Aria's eyes flickered back to their unusual trio to see a hefty-looking Ravenclaw bumble towards them. He then noticed Tom, exclaimed his name, and cocked one amused eyebrow at her. Aria gave him a small smile. "Aria Fitz."

"I'm Thomas Humphrey. We're in the same year, I think."

"Sixth."

He nodded distractedly, before turning to Tom. His large hand descended on his shoulder as he clapped his back. "Head Boy! Keeping precious company, I see," he winked at Emma, and either ignored Aria, or had completely forgotten her presence there. Emma smiled widely before twirling a stray curl in her fingers, the epitome of feminism. Taking that as her cue, Aria slinked away quickly.

* * *

Harry Potter needed something to burn off all the steam inside him. Preferably, a strong drink.

He ran his fingers through his messy hair as he went up to his dorm (two steps at a time), praying hopefully that Ron would be asleep and the subsequent confrontation could be avoided. He had no such luck, obviously. For Ron was wide awake… and _waiting_ for him.

"Here comes the traitor," he called out loudly upon seeing Harry walk through the door. Harry froze with a 'deer-in-headlights' expression on his face. "Were you with Lavender? Did you have fun with her?"

"She broke up with me."

"Oh, that's right… Wasn't the great Potter good enough for her? Good for her!"

"Ron, mate—"

"I'm not your mate!"

Harry sat down on his bed wearily. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? It was just a date, Ron!"

"A date you didn't even bother to tell me about!"

"There was no time! You said you were meeting someone in the Three Broomsticks and you rushed off!"

"She's my ex-girlfriend, Harry! How could you? You had to check up on me before asking her on a date!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, should I check up with you before changing my socks too?"

Ron's face turned an interesting shade of puce. "Well, maybe you should!"

"Maybe I won't!"

They were both shouting now.

"Oi, break it up, you two! Some of us are trying to sleep!" Seamus' voice rang out blearily through the room before they both shouted together: "You shut up!"

And then turned back to each other. Ron had crossed his arms, an annoying expression on his face. "Are you ready to apologize now?"

"Are you ready to apologize to Hermione yet?"

"That's none of your bloody business!"

"The hell it isn't my business!" Harry shouted back, quite unaware of where all his anger was stemming from. The thing was, he could have apologized and let it be. Then again, he was never good at following rules. "She's a brilliant bird, and I won't have you play with her like you played with Lavender! You've been making fun of her for years, where did the sudden attitude change stem from?"

"Like I said, that's none of your damn business!"

"Ron, you're an arse," Harry retorted flatly, lowering his voice, "you left your date with Hermione because me and Lavender were kissing a bit? That's stupid, man!"

"You aren't sleeping here  
tonight."

"Oh, trust me, I have no intention to." That said, he rummaged into his bag to find the cloak of invisibility, and the Marauder's Map, and rushed out of the room. He couldn't quite resist the parting comment. "Have a good night's sleep, _Ronald_."

Harry's steps soon carried him outside the Tower, to stand in front of the painting that covered the Head's dorm. _"Devil's snare."_

The painting swung open. "Oh, _fuck_…"

Riddle didn't even bother getting up from the floor, but the girl who was with him—Elizabeth Yaxley? She tried buttoning up her blouse, only to be stopped by Riddle who grabbed her arms in one smooth gesture. "Don't," he commanded her imperiously, before looking up to see Harry who was looking anywhere but at them, "What do you want?"

"Hermione. I want Hermione."

He gestured to the left door, and Harry stumbled past them towards it. The sounds of kissing had resumed. He knocked on the door. "Hermione? You awake?"

There were muffled sounds of the bed creaking, and the door opened. Hermione stood in front of it, with red eyes, frizzy hair and wrinkled nightwear. "Harry!" Her eyes moved past him to see Riddle and Yaxley, and she wrinkled her nose. "Come on in!"

He followed her inside, and she shut the door after him. "Tom's being weird ever since he and Astoria called it off," she explained lightly, moving to the bed. She patted the empty space next to her. "He flirts with anything that has breasts."

Harry took the seat offered, and she continued: "Normally, I wouldn't really give a damn, but I think Aria fancies him… And I could've sworn he fancies her too… But then he started bringing girls to the Common Room… He's never done that before."

Harry glanced at the closed door before replying. "Maybe Aria's not giving him the right incentive… I mean, we all know she's pretty much rude to him all the time. He's a bloke, Hermione… He has…_needs_."

Hermione laughed, but it was a sad laugh. "Like you and Lavender?"

"There's a reason behind that."

"Really?" She crossed her arms. "Like what?"

"You can't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"Remember the day of the try-outs? Lavender confounded Cormac so that he'd miss the last goal, and Ron would get the position. That time, she did it because she wanted Ron to be happy, but now she's threatening to tell him, and I don't want him to do that. You know Ron's nervous about Quidditch already," he turned to her to see the frown on her face, "and she wanted someone to go on a date with her so that people would stop typecasting her as being on a rebound or something asinine like that…"

"Well, that's complicated."

"I know. So are you and Ron. You were sleeping on his bed last night."

Hermione turned pink. "We didn't have sex… I was drunk, and I needed a place to crash. That's all."

"Oh, well, he was an arse today, wasn't he?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes either. "I don't want to talk about it, Harry… Please don't ask. New topic?"

He obliged. "I need a place to crash."

"Well, normally, I'd offer you the couch, but I'm gonna have it cleaned by various domestic spells before anyone can use it… Sleep with me. It's a big enough bed."

Harry hesitated, before shrugging. Who would come to know?

"All right."

* * *

"So how did you convince mom to let you come out and play?" Aria asked in her most innocent tone, coupled with wide-eyes, and laughed as she dodged the hand that came to hit her. Predictably, it didn't connect, and Draco grunted.

"She did say you're a bad influence."

"Oh my. The nasty Slytherin thing again?"

Draco levelled her with an amused look in his eyes. "_I'm_ the nastiest Slytherin all around."

Aria snorted. "Says you."

"And the rest of the school."

"I'll let you in on a secret—the real piece of goods is the one who doesn't let anyone know he's the piece of goods. Get it?"

"Not really, but do go ahead. Your inane chatter is exactly why I'm here."

"Don't be rude," she chided in response, sticking her neck out to observe the empty stretch of corridor before opting to move forward, "And this rendezvous is mutually beneficial."

"How so?"

"A true player keeps his cards close to his chest."

Draco made a big show of sighing at that. Wearily, he finally asked, "Where are we going?"

"The Kitchens."

"Why?"

"I have a craving for ice-cream."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Why?"

Aria grabbed his arm so that she could fix him with her most deadly glare. His only response was to raise one blonde eyebrow and smirk. "Can you please stop acting like a child?"

"As the lady commands."

Another glare went his way, which he promptly ignored. Then they reached the portrait, tickled the peach, asked for some vanilla ice-cream, and dug in enthusiastically. Or rather, she dug-in and he watched with a slightly disturbed expression on his face. "Can you please eat like a normal human?"

"Sorry. My stomach's cramping. That was why I arranged the midnight thing—that, and the fact that you're a prefect, and we could get away with this."

Draco drummed his fingers on the table, letting out air loudly as he exhaled. "Still. Just try to be—never mind," he added when he noticed the large scoop she had strategically placed into her mouth. Aria actually moaned as her taste buds exploded at the flavour.

"This—"_swallow_, "—is the best—"_swallow_, "—ice cream I've ever had," she finished triumphantly, scooping out some more and placing it into her mouth. Draco still looked disturbed, so she tried explaining again. "Cramps, y'know. You've had a girlfriend—you _should_ know."

He stared at her, and then slowly, comprehension dawned. This was visible by the slight pink on his cheeks. "I could do without that information," he said dryly, turning to the house elf. "Get me some coffee." The house elf bowed deeply and scurried away, bat-like ears moving enthusiastically as it did so. Aria raised one eyebrow.

"If Hermione saw you doing that…"

"The Mud—Muggleborn isn't here now, is she?"

Aria beamed at him. "She'd forgive you—you didn't call her a mudblood."

He looked sheepish at that, but explained nevertheless. "It didn't seem like good manners…."

"—not when you're consorting with a mudblood yourself, I get it. You could've been mates."

Draco gave her another nasty look, and then was distracted as the elf placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table they shared. His eyes twitched at the expectant expression on her face, and he grumbled a terse, "Thank you."

"Master is welcome." The House Elf bowed, before walking away once more. He picked up his cup and began drinking, Aria placed another scoop of ice-cream in her mouth, and for a few moments, all was silent. Then she broke it by brandishing her spoon at him and opened her mouth. "Why did Slughorn change your seat?"

"I asked him to."

Curiosity alight, Aria leaned forward. "How?"

"I said—I said I fancied you, and my father didn't approve. That ensured his silence regarding the matter."

Aria appraised him with incredulous look. "You said you fancied the Muggleborn? Really?"

At that, Draco groaned, banged his cup on the desk, and covered his face with his hands. Appropriately mollified, she kept her mouth shut as he rubbed his face tiredly, before meeting her eyes. "I am not what I was two years earlier." As if grudging her whatever he was saying, he continued in that same wounded tone. "As time passes, I find myself growing up."

Aria had to literally bite back the comment of 'No shit, Sherlock. Everyone grows.'

"—and little by little, my prejudices crumble." He continued in that same tone, making her sigh loudly. She placed her spoon back in the container and pushed it towards him.

"Here. You need it more than I do. Ice cream is better than therapy."

He frowned at her, but took the container anyway. At first, he regarded the spoon with something akin to suspicion, which made her think he was going to ask for another one, but then that theory evaporated when he took a sizable scoop and placed it into his mouth. No reaction escaped him.

"Oh come on, you can be open with me. I won't tell anyone."

He gave her a ghost of a smile and satisfied, Aria leaned back into her chair. "So. Good plan. What did you find out?"

"Not much—" _swallow_, "—but I think Lestrange is involved. He seems to have—" _swallow_, "—taken a personal interest in you."

She stared at him. "Did you figure this out by the number of glares he sends my way or has this been backed by actual facts?"

Draco scowled at her, and pushed back the container, which she took up happily. "No. He doesn't like me either, and I read his letter."

"Really? What did it say?"

"It was actually the remains of his letter—but I picked out your name and mine in it."

Unhappily, she took another bite of ice-cream to prevent the snarky retort on her lips. Once she was sure her words wouldn't be coloured sour, she spoke again. "Did you ask your father?"

At this, Draco looked sheepish, but didn't say anything. Obviously, he was loathe to bring up something that would put him in the wrong position as regards to his father. A bit annoyed, she pushed against the table slightly, forcing him to look up and meet her eyes. "We need to find out, Draco. Ask Lestrange."

"We could confide in Riddle."

"What?"

"He can be the one to ask Lestrange about why we were attacked."

"Why can't you do the same?"

"Because," he said forcefully, picking up his now-cold coffee, "I don't have the required Authority. Tom's the only one who can ask another pureblood to explain their actions."

"That's absurd." Even as she said it, she knew it was the most logical course to take. It might not be their smartest, but it was, undoubtedly, the safest. She didn't have magic, Lestrange was a sneaky bugger, and Tom was just—Tom. He could help.

Draco shrugged. "Look, I'm not going publicly against Lestrange. Stuff like this… It needs backing. If we can acquire Riddle's… Then rest assured, I'll do the rest. Plus—"here, his face turned troubled, "—Lestrange is one twisted tosser. He's just—evil. I'm pretty sure he was the one behind the attack on Boot. Without much incentive, he might come for you. Tom's the only one holding him back right now."

Aria abandoned her ice-cream to ponder thoughtfully. "I do want to know who attacked us. Fine. How many people will back you if we don't ask Riddle for help?"

"Truthfully? Before making you an Outcast, I could've hoped for Greengrass, and Pansy, definitely. Now… Zabini, Beaumont, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery... _Maybe_…. But it's not an assuring number."

Aria glowered at him. "What possessed you to break up with Pansy?"

"She was getting annoying."

"Really. Is it the break-up season in Slytherin?" At his confused look, she elaborated, "—you know, when one person breaks up, the rest do too?"

"I doubt the possibility of that."

Aria shrugged. "Whatever. I'm sleepy. Do as you see fit—unless you need me there to talk to Tom?"

He smirked. "It would be nicer if you were there, admittedly."

"Bugger."

"Look at it as an investment, you get to spend more time with Riddle and—_stop hitting me with the spoon_!"

* * *

As Aria slipped into her dorm after bidding Draco goodnight, she was met with a bedraggled Astoria Greengrass, who looked as if she had been crying. Her eyes were red, and puffy, and her sleeping gown was wrinkled. There were deep circles underneath her eyes. At first, Astoria's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed. "Where were you?" she rasped in a husky tone, no doubt, an after-effect of all the tears.

Aria walked towards her bed, flopped down on it, and then replied: "Kitchens. I had a craving."

There was a pause, that didn't seem awkward or anything, just comfortable. Then, to Aria's shock, Astoria sat down next to her. "I have cramps too. They started yesterday."

"So did mine." Then: "Are you going to curse me, or something?"

Astoria let out a broken laugh. "No. Why should I?"

"You haven't been exactly friendly." Aria pointed out in a matter-of-fact voice, making the other girl sigh.

"Actually, I need a favour. In return… I shall petition you to become an Acceptable in the House; if you want... It could help you-"

"What do you need?" Aria interrupted.

"I need you—"here, she turned to face Aria, "—I need you to help me become desirable again, like you, so that Tom notices me more. Tell me your secret. Please."

There was a grand pause, and Aria burst out laughing.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the uber-slow update. Life caught up, and all. Okay, the major reason for this chapter was to show that No; Ron isn't suddenly the Ron we knew in Deathly Hallows. He's still a bit idiotic, and character development is majorly needed. As for confounding McLaggen, Hermione did it in the books, it makes sense that Lavender would do it here. Just saying. **

**Reviews will help me get over the fact that the Mother in How I Met Your Mother is not hot at ALL. Grrr….. I spent EIGHT seasons following that show for this?!**


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